


Shapes of Love

by mangetsu_san



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexual Character, Coming Out, Confessions, Demisexuality, Drinking, Established Relationship, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Big Happy Family, Partying, Roommates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangetsu_san/pseuds/mangetsu_san
Summary: Eleven boys with different dreams and backgrounds come together in college to make their own little family. They fall in love, they fight, they laugh, they cry, and they stay by each other's side through it all.
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong, Lee Giwook | Cya/Son Dongmyeong
Comments: 40
Kudos: 85





	1. When The Party's Over

Youngjo was at an age where he’d much rather stay at home and watch movies with his boyfriend than go to a party, but there he was.

Surrounded by drunk college kids, off-tune singing and clumsy dancing, but it was fun because all the people he loved most were there. Hwanwoong constantly reminded him that he was still a college kid himself, although in his last year, and he should act like it while he still could. That’s why he found himself people-watching from strangers’ couches most weekends – Hwanwoong loved parties, and he loved Hwanwoong.

Tonight was one of those legendary parties hosted by The Party Boys – a cheesy and uninspired name they gave themselves after a party at their dorm unexpectedly became the talk of the campus. “Party Boys” was short for Keonhee, Seoho and Harin, three roommates that embodied the college experience that only existed in movies – getting drunk every weekend (and an occasional weekday), preferring casual relationships over long-term ones, and being a crucial part of _every_ dumb story.

They became such urban legends that there was no way of knowing what was true and what was not, all the outrageous rumors coursing through campus sounded like something they would quite realistically do. Youngjo knew Keonhee since high school, because he was Hwanwoong’s best friend, and when he roomed with Seoho and Harin, they immediately clicked and became a triple threat.

“Oh my god, Keonhee’s gonna play the kazoo again,” Hwanwoong whispered into his ear, his whole body vibrating with excitement, because there was nothing he loved more than watching Keonhee make a fool of himself in front of the whole school.

The room went silent after Keonhee’s abysmal kazoo cover of _My Heart Will Go On_ , but then Seoho started applauding so enthusiastically that everyone else felt compelled to join him. Keonhee looked like he’d just won an Oscar, bowing at a ninety-degree angle and looking adoringly at his “fans”. He was even kind enough not to give them an encore.

It was already a quarter to three, and Youngjo’s beer-buzzed mind couldn’t focus on anyone but Hwanwoong anymore. He lazily carded his fingers through his boyfriend’s bleached hair, and Hwanwoong leaned into the touch like a happy kitten. It put a lovesick smile on Youngjo’s face, even after seven years of dating. He was amazed (and infinitely grateful) that the years haven’t even grazed his love for Hwanwoong – he still got the butterflies whenever he laughed, he still felt like they were alone in the room whenever Hwanwoong looked at him like that, and he was still giddy that such a cute boy chose _him_ of all the people at this party.

His romantic moment was ruined, however, by a pretty redhead stumbling right onto Hwanwoong, crushing him under his entire weight.

The boy soon regained enough composure to roll onto the other side of the couch before Hwanwoong suffocated, but he still clung to his sleeve like a child. “Where’s Geonhakie? Have you seen Geonhakie?”

“Nope, haven’t seen him around,” Hwanwoong smiled at him with a weird mix of adoration and devilish amusement.

Youngjo finally recognized the redhead as Dongju, one of Hwanwoong’s twin roommates. When had he dyed his hair?

“Where are Myeongie and Giwook?” Hwanwoong changed the subject.

“It’s their _monthly movie night_ ,” Dongju mocked in that high-pitched voice that always made it clear he was blackout drunk. “Where’s Geonhakie?”

“I told you, we haven’t seen him,” Hwanwoong repeated. Dongju didn’t seem to be satisfied with that answer, because he curled his fists and groaned like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Call him!” he ordered.

“Why don’t _you_ call him?” Hwanwoong teased.

“Ew, no, he’ll think I like him or something.”

“Well, don’t you?” Youngjo asked cautiously, and Dongju’s glare made it clear that that was the wrong question to ask. “He told me he was coming this morning, so he’s definitely somewhere in here. Have you tried the kitchen?”

Without a word, Dongju got up and continued his search. Ten minutes later, he returned to the living room with Geonhak’s hand in his, the frown that was previously on his face now replaced by a relaxed smile, and not a hint of annoyance left in his voice.

“I found Hakkie,” he announced giddily, swinging their linked hands between them. Geonhak was visibly drunk too, though he had a God-given gift of never acting like an idiot no matter how drunk he was – the only difference was the blush on his cheeks and the way his eyes went a little out of focus. So Youngjo suspected the little smile on his face had nothing to do with alcohol.

It seemed that Dongju only came to them to flaunt his catch, because he immediately dragged Geonhak further, towards the bathroom.

“So, what’s their deal?” Youngjo had heard tales of Dongju’s… _peculiar_ relationship with Geonhak, due to Hwanwoong being probably the biggest gossip in Korea, but now that he’d seen it in action, he was even more confused.

“You’re so lucky you’re rooming with Yonghoon-hyung,” Hwanwoong sighed. “The things I’ve heard, Youngjo… I thought _we_ were kinky, but those two owe me five years of therapy.”

“No, but I mean, you told me they were friends with benefits. Why are they acting like they’re dating?”

“Oh, because they are,” Hwanwoong said matter-of-factly as he took another measured sip of his beer. “They just don’t want to admit it, but come on, even _you_ see how disgustingly in love they are. Dongju’s just stubborn and thinks feelings are “gross”, and Geonhak, well… you know him better than me, I think he’s just plain oblivious.”

“Good thing we’re not like that, huh?” Youngjo smirked.

“Believe me, I thank god every day that I have you,” Hwanwoong half-joked. “I couldn’t stand to go through all that drama. I’m too old.”

“You’re the same age as Geonhak, though.”

“Honestly, he’s the MVP for dealing with Dongju. I don’t know how his hair hasn’t gone grey yet.”

“That’s what love does to a man,” Youngjo smiled, poking Hwanwoong’s cheek in that playful way that always made him laugh like a baby. His favorite laugh of Hwanwoong’s.

“No, I mean, I get why he does it,” Hwanwoong’s voice drifted into something fonder. “Dongju is just a big baby underneath that bratty act. He’s adorable, I don’t get why he feels the need to act like he isn’t.”

“Sounds familiar?” Youngjo smirked.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Harin clapped his hands right in front of their faces, just as they leaned in for a kiss. “We’re playing Truth or Dare, and you’re participating. Non-negotiable.”

“Do we have to?” Hwanwoong groaned. “You always say we’re boring married people.”

“And you are, but you always think of the wildest questions, so I need your creativity.”

Youngjo couldn’t deny that Hwanwoong’s dirty mind made every drinking game more interesting, and Hwanwoong was weak to compliments, so they followed Harin to a big circle already full of people.

Most of those people, Youngjo didn’t know. The only person he could recognize that he hadn’t seen already that night was Hyungu, because the guy spent a lot of time in his room with Yonghoon. He had some suspicions, but he never dared to ask his roommate much about Hyungu, even though they were close. The sad smile that stuck to Yonghoon’s face for hours after Hyungu left let him know that it was better not to pry.

The unfamiliar faces all blurred into one as they kept doing things they’d definitely regret on various dares, spilling truths and taking shots, laughing at jokes Youngjo wasn’t let in on. He was sure most of the questions had stories behind them that he didn’t know, but Hwanwoong definitely did – he knew everything about everyone. He’d just fill him in later.

Youngjo noticed Dongju was sitting in Geonhak’s lap, his entire body curled into Geonhak, and he whispered something into his ear that made them both laugh. They were lost in their own little world, and Keonhee made a point of making gagging sounds at them every few minutes. Youngjo thought it was cute, though – reminded him of him and Hwanwoong when they first started dating. Hwanwoong was practically glued to his lap those first two years. And he still was, just not in public. They learned to tone down the PDA after high school.

The only thing that snapped him out of his nostalgia was when someone asked Hwanwoong who in the room he found sexiest, aside from his boyfriend and himself.

“Seoho, but only because of his ass,” he deadpanned. “Okay, I have a question for Dongju! Truth or dare?”

Everyone was expecting him to pick dare, but he didn’t. He was probably too cozy in Geonhak’s lap and too drunk to make out with anyone without the risk of throwing up in their mouth, so he endured the ‘boo’s coming from all directions and watched Hwanwoong’s expression turn into something sinister.

“If you had to date someone in this room, who would it be?”

Dongju reached for the punishment shots without thinking twice, but Geonhak swiftly grabbed his wrist before he could drink.

“No, baby, you’ve drank enough already, just answer the question,” he said softly as he put the shot glass down.

“Yeah, _baby_ , I bet Geonhak would really like to know your answer,” Hwanwoong giggled. Youngjo was impressed (and mildly terrified) by how sneaky his boyfriend could sometimes be.

Dongju looked around for a moment, as if strategizing how to beat Geonhak’s reflexes and get that shot, but he seemed to dismiss that idea quickly. They were only waiting for him to say what everyone (well, except for Geonhak) already knew, but Dongju bit on his lip nervously like he was cornered by police cars.

“Fine, I’d date Geonhak-hyung, _but_ only because none of you losers could fuck me well enough,” Dongju finally gave in, and that add-on didn’t save him from relentless teasing. Geonhak was laughing too, but Youngjo could see in his eyes how happy those words truly made him. No one could stop Dongju from taking a shot after that.

The longer the game went on, the less Youngjo could follow. He saw Harin disappearing from the circle with some girl, probably to carry out a dare Youngjo was glad he was too spaced out to hear, and he saw Keonhee dancing to _Wannabe_ , but that was about it. Everything else paled in comparison to the warmth of Hwanwoong’s body next to him, and he probably looked even clingier than Dongju.

“Guys, I think I might have to take this one home,” Geonhak chuckled. Without anyone noticing, Dongju fell asleep in his arms, and he wasn’t waking up even when Geonhak tapped his back. Youngjo was impressed by his ability to fall asleep despite the loud music and louder voices, and even more impressed by Geonhak’s strength, knowing how far Dongju’s room was from The Party Room.

Geonhak hooked one arm below Dongju’s knees and the other around his shoulders, picking him up princess-style as slowly as he could, to avoid waking him up. Dongju let out some kind of subconscious grunt and draped his arms around Geonhak’s neck for more stability, but made no effort to actually wake up.

“Bye-bye, don’t forget to tuck my baby in!” Hwanwoong waved at him.

Geonhak said his goodbyes to everyone and left the room, and with him seemed to leave the collective interest in Truth or Dare. Harin still hadn’t gotten back from the bathroom, probably didn’t intend to, Hyungu was on the phone with someone while Seoho tried to pry said phone away from him, and Keonhee’s entire lanky body was splayed over Youngjo’s and Hwanwoong’s laps, demanding hair scratches.

This was always how their parties went, and the sense of familiarity flooded Youngjo’s chest with warmth. Dongju and Geonhak would always be the first to leave, under one redundant excuse or another, Harin and Seoho would sneak out on a new “conquest” after making sure everyone was having the time of their lives, and Keonhee would spend the entire night flirting with people left and right, only to end up sandwiched between Youngjo and Hwanwoong like their son.

“Where’s Hyungu?”

Ah. Their newest party tradition.

“Yonghoon-hyung!” Keonhee made grabby hands at him excitedly. “You said you couldn’t come!”

“And I can’t, but Hyungu called me to pick him up,” Yonghoon smiled apologetically.

When Yonghoon was there, he was that friend who held everyone’s hair while they threw up, made sure everyone got home safe, told random girls (and Hyungu) that they deserved better than their ex, and replaced Dongmyeong’s beer with apple juice when he was already too drunk to notice. However, in the past months, he’d barely made it to any of their parties, and when he did, he’d only stay an hour or two, and go right back to his room to study.

Youngjo knew he was under a lot of stress because it was his final year in college – knew it all too well, being in the same situation himself – but he missed Yonghoon a lot. He was never quite as wild as their other friends, but he did know how to have fun, before he completely sunk into himself and reduced his entire life to studying and job hunting, studying and job hunting. And being in love with his straight best friend, if Youngjo’s intuition was correct.

“Hyung, you came!” Hyungu shouted.

Seoho followed behind him as he staggered his way to Yonghoon’s arms, wearing a tired expression that said: _Sorry, I couldn’t stop him._

“Mm, you always smell so nice,” Hyungu mumbled as he hugged Yonghoon. “Seoho was so mean, hyung. He wouldn’t let me call you.”

“But you did it anyway, didn’t you?” Yonghoon smiled. “Let’s get you home.”

“Nooo, I don’t wanna go home,” Hyungu hiccupped. “Eun-Eunhae is here, with, with her new boyfriend, and I still haven’t found anyone to make her jealous with.”

“Come on, who cares about that?” Yonghoon rolled his eyes. “If you don’t go home now and drink a lot of water to get that beer out of you, you’ll get a beer belly and you’ll never be able to find another girlfriend.”

“You’re right,” Hyungu sounded mortified. “But can I sleep in your room? I think Giwook and Dongmyeong are watching _Lion King_ in our room, and you know _Lion King_ makes me sad.”

“Fine, fine, you can sleep at ours, if that’s fine with Youngjo.” Youngjo, of course, just nodded firmly. “We’ll be going, then. Thanks for watching my overgrown toddler for me.”

Once they were out of the room too, with Hyungu clinging to Yonghoon’s waist in order to walk properly, Hwanwoong let out one of his deep and meaningful sighs.

“Man, poor guy.”

“So you see it too?”

“I could see it from space,” Hwanwoong shook his head. “Once again, thank god I have you.”

“Wanna get out of here and have a little more of me?” Youngjo wiggled his eyebrows in a way that always made Hwanwoong cringe and giggle at the same time.

“The question is, where to?” Hwanwoong pondered. “In your room we have Hyungu probably still crying about his ex and blowing his nose very loudly, and in my room we have Dongju and Geonhak, and we can only pray Dongju is still asleep.”

“Hmm…” Youngjo hummed. “Dongju looked pretty passed out to me, so I’d rather take the chance of him being asleep. I already know every single thing there is to know about Hyungu’s ex.”

“Chez Hwanwoong, then,” he decided. They bid farewell to Keonhee and Seoho, promising Keonhee they’d “kick Dongmyeong’s and Giwook’s asses for bailing on them”, and this, Youngjo realized, was his favorite part of every party. Going home with Hwanwoong.

“I can’t wait for us to get our own place when you graduate,” Hwanwoong said casually. “I mean, I love our roommates, but it feels like we haven’t been _actually_ alone in months.”

“But how do you plan on paying rent? You’ll still be in school,” Youngjo teased.

“That’s what my rich, older boyfriend is for.”

Youngjo knew they probably wouldn’t have the energy to do anything fun like his eyebrows had implied, maybe just make out a little before going to bed, but he was grateful for every night he got to end next to this man. He wouldn’t have to walk the walk of shame like some of his friends, or spend the night crying about being dumped, or hide his feelings from a friend (with or without benefits) – of all the lovely, handsome, incredible men in their little group, he still didn’t know how _he_ ended up being the one that won the lottery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew, here we go.  
> i wanted to finish the entire fic before posting to avoid any delays in updates, but it's gonna be a long ride so i just couldn't wait. i have the next two updates ready and will try to update weekly, so don't worry about that right now if you liked the story so far! following chapters will be a lot longer and will focus on different relationships, so i hope you'll find something you like <3 please let me know your thoughts (wishes? predictions?👀), or leave kudos if you want to <3 thank you!!


	2. Heart-shaped Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early update bc i finished another chapter in advance!

“Giwook. Giwook. Giwookie ~”

“Shut up,” Giwook mumbled, throwing the comforter over his face so Dongmyeong couldn’t whine right into his ear.

“Come on, Dongju’s classes end soon, we need to bake cookies,” Dongmyeong whispered with an exaggerated sense of urgency.

“I came here to take a nap and a break from my roommates, not to bake cookies,” Giwook said, only pulling the comforter low enough to glare at Dongmyeong.

“I specifically asked, _Do you want to come over and bake cookies with me_ , and you said, and I quote, _sure_.”

Everyone knew that what Dongmyeong wants, Dongmyeong gets. As Yonghoon liked to say, his smile was a Hyung Murder Machine, and although Giwook was the same age as him, he wasn’t immune to it either. Dongmyeong knew that better than anyone, and he shamelessly used it against him.

“I know you’re tired, but we can take a nap together after we stuff ourselves with cookies,” Dongmyeong negotiated. “You know I make the best chocolate chip cookies in Korea. I’ll even let you take the last one if we get an uneven number.”

With one more bat of those lashes, Giwook was done for. He hated how easily he gave in to Dongmyeong, but there was nothing he could do about it. Men far stronger than him, like Geonhak, for example, had fallen victim to the Son twins. Ever since Giwook hit puberty and found out what a crush was, he’d been wondering just _how_ anyone could possibly have a smile that beautiful.

He’d been friends with the twins since they were born. Their houses were right next to each other, their moms were best friends, and it was just convenient. Of course, he saw Dongju and Dongmyeong as two completely different individuals, even when they were still wearing matching clothes, but his level of closeness to them was exactly the same. It was always the three of them, wherever they went – Dongmyeong and Dongju even got sick at the same time, so the possibility of Giwook hanging out with one twin without the other was practically non-existent.

It was like that up until high school, when Dongmyeong started dating his first boyfriend and Giwook found himself angry all the time. He was sure it was a normal reaction to his best friend making less time for him – even Dongju was pissed at his brother for always canceling their plans. God, he even started composing angsty songs at that time, which made his skin crawl when he recalled it, but it was a good thing in the long run, because it lead him to pursue a career in music.

He missed Dongmyeong so much that he called him to go out in the middle of the night, just the two of them, because he knew Dongju would bite him for interrupting his beauty sleep. They went to the rooftop of an abandoned building and Dongmyeong looked so pretty under the stars that Giwook couldn’t stop new melodies from forming in his head the entire night. That’s when he realized – Dongmyeong was his first love.

Now, six years later, he didn’t have a clue what his relationship with Dongmyeong was. They were still best friends, still glued at the hip, but his feelings grew from an innocent crush to something bigger than his entire body, and he was sure Dongmyeong had noticed it by now. Dongmyeong noticed everything.

It brought him many sleepless nights – if Dongmyeong knew, why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he stop being friends with him? And most importantly, why was he always _so_ affectionate with him and him only? Giwook knew Dongmyeong wasn’t cruel enough to give him false hope, but if he really felt the same way, why didn’t he confess?

It was all too complicated, and Dongju wasn’t much help. He just told him he should “man up” already, like it was easy, like he himself didn’t hide from love behind the words “friends with benefits”, so Giwook thought he shouldn’t be taking love advice from Dongju anyway.

All his hyungs said the same thing (even Geonhak, who was, again, the world’s biggest hypocrite), but Giwook just… he just couldn’t. Every time he opened his mouth to say something, the words would stick to his throat and he’d be left gaping like a dead fish until Dongmyeong had to ask if he was sick. There have been a few drunken confessions over the years, but Dongmyeong seemed to have forgotten them all by the morning. In the end, the conclusion Giwook’s anxious brain reached was that Dongmyeong was, just like him, pretending none of it was real, and waiting for it to pass.

Which really wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, not if he keeps resting his chin on Giwook’s shoulder while they bake _heart-shaped cookies_.

It did feel a little unfair, sometimes, that the universe made him that close to Dongmyeong all the time but never let him have anything more, but he’d gotten used to it. He’d made peace with the fact that his feelings weren’t going to magically disappear, and once he did, he started treasuring every little bit of affection he could get.

They were both comfortable with what they had. Giwook no longer felt a sting in his chest every time Dongmyeong hugged him just because he knew there was no romantic subtext. He realized that being with Dongmyeong was enough, in whichever sense that may be, and he was more than comfortable – he was happy. As long as he could see Dongmyeong smile, he was happy.

And to be honest, he couldn’t understand how all their friends _weren’t_ in love with Dongmyeong. His smile aside, the boy had the voice of an angel, he liked putting rhinestones on his eyelids, and he got genuinely excited about cookie cutters. He had a whole collection of them – stars, flowers, dinosaurs, alpacas, and now hearts, apparently. For Giwook’s birthday, he bought cutters in the shapes of the alphabet and baked him a tray of cookies that spelled out _Happy birthday, Giwookie_. Really, it was impossible not to love him.

“Pass me the chocolate chips, baby,” Dongmyeong said casually, eyes glued to the recipe on his phone.

Giwook did as he was told and stood by in case Dongmyeong needed anything else, he wasn’t much help in the kitchen otherwise. He didn’t flinch at the pet names anymore – everyone called him and Dongmyeong babies (and even Dongju, when he wasn’t biting anyone). The three of them were the only second-years in a group of upperclassmen, and they were constantly being babied, so Giwook grew numb to words like that. It did sound a little prettier coming from Dongmyeong, but nothing big enough to make him panic.

What did make him panic, however, even after all those years, was when Dongmyeong tried to kiss him. He would always dodge it, squirming away like a child that doesn’t want to be embarrassed by their mom on the first day of school, but sometimes Dongmyeong was quicker.

Like right now, when Giwook was too busy being in love, and Dongmyeong snuck up from behind him and left a big, loud kiss on his cheek. Giwook soon realized that Dongmyeong’s lips were covered in cookie dough, and the purpose of the kiss was to get Giwook’s face messy, so he reached for the bowl and coated two of his fingers in dough, running towards Dongmyeong to wipe them on his face.

“Stop, stop!” Dongmyeong yelled between fits of laughter. “I wanted to eat the dough!”

Their kitchen was miniature, so there wasn’t really much room for running around. Giwook managed to grab Dongmyeong’s waist, and then squeezed so tightly that Dongmyeong couldn’t get away even with all the kicking. He succeeded in his mission to paint Dongmyeong’s nose with cookie dough, accidentally getting some in his nostril in the process, and they giggled like they did when they played tag in kindergarten.

He was so very, incredibly happy that he didn’t even realize Dongmyeong’s entire back was pressed to his chest, their bodies as close as they could be. They would’ve probably “accidentally” stayed like that for a while, if not for someone kicking the door open.

Predictably, it was Geonhak, with Dongju’s legs wrapped around his waist, and they were making out like their life depended on it. The fact that Dongju couldn’t even wait to reach the room before pouncing on him was, frankly, disturbing.

“Khm, we’re right here,” Dongmyeong cleared his throat. He didn’t even try to hide how annoyed he was by his moment being ruined.

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Dongju frowned at his twin, and Geonhak gently put him down on his feet. “Shoo.”

“No way, our cookies are almost done!” Dongmyeong argued.

“And if I speak?” Dongju smirked. Dongmyeong was convinced he shared the womb with Satan himself.

“I hate you,” Dongmyeong shot him one last glare, bitterly accepting defeat. “We’ll be back in twenty minutes. Make it snappy.”

Dongmyeong went to the hallway to get his jacket, and Giwook had no choice but to follow him out. Geonhak shrugged sympathetically, like he was apologizing on Dongju’s behalf.

“What does he have on you that’s so bad you have to run out of your own room every time he snaps his fingers?” Giwook laughed when they left the room.

“Don’t ask,” Dongmyeong sighed. “Why are they never in _your_ room? I don’t think I’ll survive walking in on my baby brother with his hand in a guy’s pants one more time.”

“They’re at ours all the time!” Giwook protested. “Believe me, I’ve seen worse things than a handjob.”

“So what, they’re just _always_ together?”

“Seems like it,” Giwook shrugged.

“So oblivious,” Dongmyeong huffed out an annoyed laugh.

“Yeah. So oblivious.”

* * *

Geonhak didn’t usually get into situations like this.

He was shy, but he was pretty straight-forward. When he liked someone, he’d get his friends to hype him up for a few weeks, and then he’d approach the person and ask to buy them coffee. Now, he didn’t want to sound too confident, but the response was usually positive.

The relationships would fizzle out after a few months, but he didn’t get hung up on it. He considered himself the perfect middle ground between Youngjo and Seoho – not romantic enough to think about marriage and kids at twenty-two, but he didn’t do casual sex either. Which only made his current predicament all the more confusing, because Dongju got him doing both at the same time.

Dongju was resting his head on Geonhak’s chest, still breathless from what they just did, still the most beautiful man Geonhak had ever seen. His bangs were sticking to his sweaty forehead, limp legs pressing against Geonhak’s. He was as physically clingy as he was emotionally distanced, but even more so after sex. He wouldn’t let Geonhak go for at least thirty minutes, sometimes even hours (because he would fall asleep, and Geonhak didn’t have the heart to wake him), and they’d just lie there, all tangled and gross but so very peaceful.

The quiet allowed Geonhak to adore each eyelash on Dongju’s eyes, to trace his cheekbone all the way to that little mole under his left eye, to feel his chest ache with thoughts of how Dongju would never look at him the same way.

“What are you thinking about?” Dongju asked quietly.

“About how pretty you are when you’re not talking,” Geonhak lied, earning himself a merciless bite on the collarbone, the one that was already entirely painted in hickeys.

“What are you _really_ thinking about?”

“How I should get Dongmyeong’s cookies out the oven,” Geonhak deflected. “Looks like they forgot about them, and you know Dongmyeong doesn’t fuck around when it comes to his cookies.”

“Yeah, you probably should,” Dongju hummed, making no attempt to release him from his hold. “If the cookies get burnt, we’re the next thing going in that oven.”

“So let me go.”

“No.”

Dongju only clung tighter to his side, like a little koala trying to steal all his body warmth, and Geonhak knew he’d have to resort to blackmail.

“I’ll steal one cookie for you and tell him I ate it,” he tried, but Dongju didn’t budge. “I’ll give you a blowjob?”

“One thousand blowjobs,” Dongju negotiated.

“Can you even count to a thousand, theater kid?”

“Whatever, just get the damn cookies.”

Geonhak didn’t want to admit he ran back to bed the second he set the cookies down on the countertop, not even taking a second to smell them. They didn’t smell like coal, and that was good enough for him. The second he got back, Dongju’s body was wrapped around him again, and they fell back into a comfortable silence.

Dongju had this thing where he stared up at him with something completely indecipherable in his eyes, and Geonhak knew he shouldn’t hope it was love. But sometimes he wondered.

He wondered if Dongju asking him to stay for dinner after three rounds of sex was called love, if always (always) cuddling before they even cleaned up was love, if meeting him in the laundry room just to help him do the laundry and kiss him on the washing machine, completely forgetting about sex, was love.

They did lots of things outside of sex, like shopping or studying together even though they were in different years and majors or playing games on Hyungu’s PlayStation, but that was because they were _friends_ with benefits.

He met Dongju six months ago, when he came to his dorm to throw Giwook a surprise birthday party. Dongmyeong and Hyungu were out distracting the birthday boy, and none of the other guests wanted to help set up the decorations, so Geonhak found himself alone with a stranger, blowing colorful balloons to fill his room. Such situations were usually awkward for Geonhak, but Dongju talked to him like they’d known each other their entire lives, and two hours went by in a flash.

As the party neared its end, at that point when Youngjo started crying about how much he loved his friends and Harin was already asleep in the bathtub, Dongju put his hand on Geonhak’s thigh and looked at him with those Bambi eyes that told him exactly what was going to happen. And that’s how it all started.

Things were simple back then. Dongju woke up the next morning and informed him he “didn’t do” relationships, but that Geonhak was the best lay of his life, so if he ever wanted to do it again, he could just get his number from Giwook. And so Geonhak did, three days later, because he didn’t want to seem too desperate, and it kept happening until it happened so often that even Dongju felt the need to define their relationship.

“You’re not like, falling in love with me or something, are you?” he had asked.

“You’re so full of yourself,” Geonhak laughed. And he wasn’t lying, not back then. He didn’t fall in love easily, and a few mind-blowing fucks weren’t enough to make him catch feelings, so he saw no harm in agreeing to be friends with benefits. He didn’t even know much about Dongju at that time, and although he was stunning, Geonhak had no idea he would ever fall so, so madly in love with him.

But that was before he heard the excitement in Dongju’s voice as he told him about a musical he’d watched, before he found out he had a favorite stuffed animal (that he hid under his bed when Geonhak came over, he had to thank Dongmyeong for that tip), before Hwanwoong started complaining about Dongju’s biting habit and Geonhak realized he didn’t mind it at all, that he actually quite liked all the things others listed as Dongju’s flaws. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment Dongju became more than a friend with benefits, but when he did, Geonhak wished he’d never helped set up Giwook’s birthday party.

“So, they’re baking heart-shaped cookies,” he said dumbly, just to break the silence that was starting to get dangerously soft for his already soft heart. He could smell the cookies even from a distance, so it was the first thing that came to mind.

“Gross, I know,” Dongju scoffed.

“I think it’s cute.”

“Which part of it is cute exactly? The six years of pointless pining part? I think they’re just doing it to be dramatic, honestly.”

“I meant the cookies part,” Geonhak knew Dongju always got heated when his brother and Giwook were mentioned. “But be honest. If you liked one of your friends, wouldn’t you be afraid of ruining the friendship too?”

“Couldn’t be me.”

Geonhak swallowed. “Okay, but just _imagine._ Hypothetically.”

“I mean, I don’t like wasting my time. Even if I were afraid, I wouldn’t let it go on for _six years_.”

“Okay, but what if it’s a friend that’s really, really precious to you, like…” _Like kissing your lavender-scented hair-precious, or seeing you smile when I bring you sweets to your rehearsals-precious, or hearing you sing your favorite Disney songs-precious._ “Baking heart-shaped cookies with him-precious.”

“You can bake cookies with anyone, though,” Dongju shrugged.

Right. Because everything they did were things he could do with anyone else too, because Geonhak couldn’t give him anything he couldn’t find elsewhere.

Because it wasn’t love.

* * *

Yonghoon was counting down the days until graduation. Four months, two weeks and five days. And that’s if he doesn’t faint during his final presentation and has to re-take a class next year.

He’d spent five hours writing an essay on the pros and cons of educational essentialism, but somewhere along the line all three-thousand words on his screen lost meaning. He read it over and over, trying to figure out what language it was even written in, and before he knew it, a whole hour passed just blankly staring at the page. He knew the brain fog meant he was probably supposed to close his laptop, but the deadline was in an hour, and all he had were a bunch of jumbled letters and three empty coffee cups.

Just a few feet away, his roommate had the _audacity_ to be happy right in front of his heavy, bloodshot eyes.

Youngjo had apparently finished all his coursework, because he was now cuddling with his boyfriend on the couch as they judged the contestants of _MasterChef_ , completely ignoring the fact that neither of them could cook more than instant noodles. Yonghoon didn’t want to be envious, he really didn’t, especially since they were both among his closest friends, but ever since he fell for someone unattainable, he found his stomach twisting every time Youngjo brought Hwanwoong over.

They made it all look so easy. High school sweethearts, equally whipped for each other, always bickering like an old married couple but also always doing disgustingly sweet things like making playlists for each other and going on picnics. They were a picture-perfect couple, a symbol of everything Yonghoon wanted but could never have, a constant reminder of his overwhelming loneliness.

To be fair, they were very considerate towards his situation, even though they never explicitly talked about it. When he was in the apartment, they muted the TV and read the subtitles instead, they kept their voices down as to not disturb him, and they didn’t even kiss much. Yonghoon really appreciated that even Hwanwoong, who was the most possessive little man he knew and frequently swatted Keonhee away from his boyfriend, invited him to join their cuddle sessions when he saw he was feeling down.

Yonghoon was lucky to have friends like them, because he required _a lot_ of affection. He couldn’t even count the number of times Youngjo had thrown a blanket over him when he fell asleep at his desk, or brought him hot cocoa while he was studying completely unprompted, or the times Giwook volunteered to be his personal plushie, even though he usually hated skinship.

So he couldn’t say he was deprived exactly, he knew he was loved and cared for, but a part of him couldn’t help but be greedy. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t want someone to go that extra mile, to look at him the way Geonhak looked at Dongju, to kiss his cheek the way Dongmyeong did Giwook’s, to show him off like Youngjo did Hwanwoong.

Well, there was no use dwelling on it. He shook his head and returned his focus to the screen, and cursed his eighteen-year-old self for choosing to major in Music Education instead of something with less 500-page exams and essays and PowerPoints.

He knew his major wasn’t the hardest, he knew all his friends worked just as hard. Hwanwoong could barely walk after hours of dance practice, Youngjo spent many sleepless nights in his studio, Dongju and Dongmyeong said their lines in their sleep, and Keonhee once lost his voice for three whole days after straining it too much. And Hyungu…

The essay flew out the window the second his mind landed on Hyungu. He thought about his calloused fingers, always rough and bleeding, and how he refused to ever let Yonghoon treat his wounds, because he said playing the guitar actually hurts less when you have them. He thought about how excited Hyungu was about composing his first song, and how those worn down yet so delicate hands trembled when he first played it for Yonghoon.

He smashed his head into the table as hard as he could.

“Hyung, is everything alright?” Hwanwoong asked.

“Yeah, just, uh… this… this…” Yonghoon had to scroll to the top of his document to remember what he was even trying to write about. “Philosophy of Education assignment.”

He didn’t have to look at Hwanwoong to know that he was squinting at him, and Youngjo was probably wearing that half-worried half-disappointed expression he always did when Yonghoon was overworking himself.

“You sure? ‘Cause you’ve been staring at us like a kicked puppy for about ten minutes now,” Hwanwoong kept pushing.

“Everything’s fine, Woongie!” Yonghoon laughed, but his voice went just a little too high.

Yonghoon pointedly started typing again to signal that the conversation was over, although he was actually just smashing random keys, but the second he did, Hwanwoong started kissing Youngjo _unnecessarily_ loudly to get his attention back.

“Ah, really, can’t you go be gross at your place? Where no one’s hopelessly in love with a straight dude?”

“I’m afraid not, Dongmyeong and Giwook reserved my place for being gross today.”

“Great. Everyone has _something_ going on, meanwhile I’m considering re-downloading Mystic Messenger,” Yonghoon pulled a sigh from the bottom of his lungs.

“It means he’s gone insane,” Hwanwoong whispered after Youngjo turned to him for an explanation. “Hyung, why don’t you just tell Hyungu how you feel?”

Yonghoon choked at those words. Though he was pretty sure Youngjo had caught onto it (and it goes without saying that he shared _everything_ with his boyfriend), Yonghoon cherished their unspoken agreement not to talk about it. Even Youngjo looked at Hwanwoong in shock. But he supposed it was bound to come up sooner or later.

“Am I really that obvious?” he laughed a strained little laugh. He finally closed his laptop, because he knew Hwanwoong wouldn’t let him go easily now that he got him where he wanted him.

“Well, the only other options were Seoho and Harin, and I’m pretty sure neither of them spends every waking hour with you.” Yonghoon knew Hwanwoong was just pretending not to have known to make him feel better, but he still appreciated it.

“What would even be the point of telling him? We all know he’s straight.”

“Yeah, I’m not saying it would magically turn him gay, but it would help you get over him,” Hwanwoong said. Youngjo scolded him quietly, but Yonghoon actually quite appreciated his honesty. No matter how much he trusted Youngjo, the reason he avoided talking to him about Hyungu was that he would probably try to feed him false hope, and worst case scenario, he would actually convince Yonghoon Hyungu was secretly gay for him and him only. What he needed was someone like Hwanwoong to whip him into shape.

“It’s not worth ruining our friendship for,” he shrugged it off.

“You know it wouldn’t,” Hwanwoong insisted. “You know Hyungu wouldn’t look at you differently. I mean, ninety percent of his friends are gay, and he’s obviously comfortable enough with it to shower you with love confessions every time he gets drunk, so I don’t think this is much different.”

“It’s _so_ much different,” Yonghoon laughed. “How would you feel if, let’s say, Keonhee, told you he has feelings for you?”

Hwanwoong couldn’t help but cringe with his whole body, but he quickly turned serious again. “I mean, it would be awkward, we’d probably both need some time to see where to go from there, but I’d never, ever stop being friends with Keonhee.”

“Would you leave me for him?” Youngjo asked quietly.

“Yes, Youngjo, I actually have this grand plan to run off with _Keonhee_ on our wedding day,” Hwanwoong rolled his eyes at him. “Say something helpful to the poor man.”

“I think you should talk to him too,” Youngjo nodded sagely. “Ripping the band-aid and all that, you know. Because it’s bound to blow over at some point, you’re not just going to wake up one day and stop loving him. So you might as well talk it through as friends instead of getting into some big argument.”

“Wait, isn’t this the exact same speech you gave Geonhak about Dongju last week?” Yonghoon recalled.

“Yeah, because you’re the exact same type of meathead as Geonhak,” Hwanwoong interjected. “You, Geonhak, Dongmyeong, Giwook, all of you. _Afraid of losing a friend,_ what bullshit. Youngjo was my friend at first too, that’s how it’s supposed to work! But you know what I did? I pushed him against the wall of the music room and kissed him anyway, because my fifteen-year-old 5’6 ass was manlier than all of you combined!”

“That’s _not_ what happened, stop lying to people!” Youngjo protested. They argued about how exactly they got together for another two minutes, and Yonghoon was ready to just submit his unedited essay and go to sleep.

“You got lucky _once_ , it doesn’t give you the authority to judge everyone else’s life choices.”

“What I’m saying is, of course you’re all afraid, but there’s literally no other advice I could give you. If you take the risk you either get something great, or you end your suffering, start moving on and open up new possibilities of getting something great. If you don’t take the risk, well, all you get is more suffering.”

Deep down, he knew Hwanwoong was right. Hwanwoong was the most proactive, no-nonsense guy in their group, and he’d definitely never allow himself to simmer in self-pity for months on end. But Yonghoon wasn’t Hwanwoong. He was used to keeping everything to himself, to endless distractions and self-neglect, and telling him to just rip his heart out and throw it in Hyungu’s hands was the equivalent of throwing a baby into an Olympic pool without floaties. Suffering was familiar, it was safe, it was what he was good at.

And to be honest, it wasn’t like it was all just _suffering_ all the time. After the twentieth drunk call from Hyungu telling him how cool he is and how much he loves him, he’d say he’d gotten pretty immune to it. Of course, he couldn’t stop his stupidly soft heart from clenching from time to time, like whenever Hyungu played the guitar for him, or when he came over to watch rom-coms because he’d just been dumped again, but it happened less and less often. He supposed his heart got tired too.

Before Yonghoon got a chance to reply, Chungha’s _Snapping_ started blasting through the room, startling everyone.

“Oh, wait, Seoho’s calling me,” Hwanwoong said as he got his phone out of his pocket. “What’s up?”

Yonghoon couldn’t hear what Seoho said, but he could see Hwanwoong’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

“No, I haven’t,” Hwanwoong replied, then moved the mic of his phone away from his face. “Have you guys heard from Keonhee today?”

Yonghoon and Youngjo both shook their heads.

“Yeah, I’m with Youngjo and Yonghoon-hyung,” Hwanwoong nodded to whatever Seoho had asked him. “Ah, okay.”

“Hi hyungs,” Seoho greeted them when Hwanwoong put him on speaker, an uneasy smile audible in his voice. “I wanted to ask all three of you, have you noticed anything unusual about Keonhee lately?”

“I don’t think I have,” Youngjo replied after some thinking. “Is everything alright?”

“Ah, I don’t know, it’s probably just me and Harin who see it, because we’re always with him…” Seoho sounded like he was trying hard to sound casual. “He’s just been acting a little strange lately. He laughs less, and I feel like he’s shutting us out.”

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him in the group chat at all this week,” Yonghoon recalled. “And you know he usually spams the most.”

“I mean, he still texts me every day, but you may be right, it’s usually just about school or the drama we’re watching together,” Hwanwoong admitted.

“Did you know he went on a date yesterday?” Seoho asked. Hwanwoong didn’t, and if his best friend since middle school didn’t know, no one did.

“He usually tells me and Harin about the people he goes out with, I mean, at least the basics, like what year and major they’re in, but yesterday he didn’t even tell us in advance he was going out, I just happened to catch him fixing his hair, and then he dodged all my questions and did that thing where he laughs like a madman when he’s nervous,” Seoho explained.

“That’s definitely weird,” Hwanwoong bit his lip. “Wait, didn’t he come home after that? And don’t you guys have classes together?”

“Yeah, that’s the thing – he didn’t. He didn’t come to class either. His phone isn’t off, but he’s not returning my calls.”

“Shit.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, I just wanted to check with you just in case, but I’m sure he’ll come home soon,” Seoho reassured him when he noticed Hwanwoong was getting nervous. “Okay, well, call me if you get a hold of him. I’ll call Dongju now, he might know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, let me know when he gets home.”

They all said goodbye to Seoho, and the atmosphere got even heavier than when they started discussing Yonghoon’s hopeless crush. He guessed it just wasn’t his day.

“Shit, I was so preoccupied with this damn choreo, I didn’t even notice something was wrong with my _best_ friend,” Hwanwoong cursed himself. “I thought it was just Keonhee being Keonhee, you know how he sometimes gets lost in his own world, but now that Seoho said it, everything makes sense.”

“Don’t blame yourself baby, none of us have noticed anything,” Youngjo rubbed his back to soothe him “Seoho probably wouldn’t have either if they weren’t living together.”

“I’m gonna call him, maybe he’s just avoiding Seoho and Harin for whatever reason,” Hwanwoong resolved. They all sat and listened to the rings for twenty-five pitiful seconds, before the call was directed to voicemail.

“Hey, beanpole, call me when you get this, it’s time for your weekly ass-beating,” Hwanwoong all but growled into the phone, and hung up.

“Is this always how he shows love?” Yonghoon laughed.

“Yup, that’s pretty much as much verbal affection as you’ll get from him,” Youngjo said, fully prepared for the slap on the chest that came after.

“Both of you, shut up, I’m plenty affectionate,” Hwanwoong frowned. “It’s just that none of you deserve my affection.”

Youngjo wanted to keep bickering, but Hwanwoong’s phone went off with a text notification.

“It’s Keonhee,” his eyes widened. “ _Can’t talk now, I’m fine, tell Seoho and Harin I’ll be home by eight._ Oh, thank fuck.”

“Isn’t that a little suspicious?” Yonghoon asked carefully.

“As long as he’s coming home, I can save the beating for later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you couldn't follow who is in which year of uni (tho idk if it's even relevant to the plot), here's how it goes:  
> 4th years - yonghoon and youngjo  
> 3rd years - 98z + seoho and geonhak  
> 2nd years - the twins + giwook
> 
> and as for rooming arrangements:  
> the twins + hwanwoong  
> yonghoon + youngjo  
> geonhak + giwook + hyungu  
> keonhee + harin + seoho


	3. It's a Twins Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning?? there is a very, very brief mention of a verbally abusive past relationship at the end of this chapter. it's really non-graphic imo, but you can never be too cautious with trigger/content warnings, so please be careful!

It always started with a two-word text.

Geonhak didn’t even have to reply, because Dongju knew he’d always be there. Even without the text, Geonhak’s feet brought him to Dongju’s door a lot more often than they should have. He sometimes felt pathetic for it, like a lowly servant that had no choice but to carry out Dongju’s every order, but he knew full well it was his own heart keeping him hostage, not Dongju. And that only made him angrier.

Geonhak prided himself on self-discipline. He went to the gym five times a week, without fail, no matter how hot or cold it was outside, no matter how busy he was, because taking care of himself wasn’t something he compromised on. Hyungu was in awe of his ability to _actually_ watch just one episode of a TV show before bed and not check his phone until he finished all his homework. And yet, when it came to Dongju, self-control became nothing but an abstract noun.

It’s not like Dongju did it on purpose. The words “come over” really shouldn’t have that much power over anyone, especially not when they’re just a bunch of pixels on his phone, but they did.

Because Geonhak always read them in Dongju’s voice, that airy voice that somehow managed to sound like he didn’t care if Geonhak came or not, but he would also order his execution if he didn’t. The same voice that shouted his name over and over when they made love, or slurred it cutely when he had too much to drink. Because it was Dongju, Geonhak didn’t stand a chance.

So he found himself at Dongju’s doorstep once again, like he did almost every afternoon for the past six months, and his heart ached with the ease of it all.

Dongju was feisty, and insatiable. He usually wasted no time throwing himself at Geonhak, and saved foreplay for round two – when he wanted something, he wanted it right there and there. Today, however, he stayed in his spot on the couch, still scrolling through his phone with a bored expression on his face, like he didn’t even notice Geonhak was there.

“Uh, hello?” Geonhak waved his hand in front of his face.

“I’m hungry,” Dongju said simply.

“So you called me over just to cook for you?” Geonhak laughed in disbelief.

“Not _just_ to cook, but I need to eat first, to get energy for later.”

“ _Energy_ , as if I don’t do all the work,” Geonhak rolled his eyes, but his hand already wrapped around Dongju’s small wrist and dragged him to the kitchen.

“I was catching up on my webtoon!” Dongju protested.

“I’m not your personal chef, kid, the least you can do is talk to me while I cook,” he knew Dongju hated it when he called him a kid, so he made sure to emphasize it. “What do you want to eat?”

“Kimchi-jjigae.”

“Come on, don’t you know how to make kimchi-jjigae on your own?!”

“I do, but yours tastes better,” Dongju grinned cutely, and Geonhak couldn’t do anything but sigh in defeat.

“So? Where’s everyone?” he tried to make small talk to distract himself from the feeling of Dongju’s focused eyes on him.

“Myeong is still stuck at rehearsals, and Hwanwoong is, surprise surprise, at Youngjo-hyung’s,” Dongju said. “We have about an hour and a half until Dongmyeong comes back, so take your time. No sex if the food’s not good.”

They fell into a comfortable conversation about school, their friends, the new play Dongju was preparing, somehow coming all the way back to middle school memories and a heated discussion about the cultural impact of _Frozen_. Geonhak still didn’t get the hype, but Dongju loved it, so they compromised and watched both parts twice.

“Slice these onions for me,” Geonhak commanded.

“No way, that’s what you’re here for!”

“It’s going to be ready sooner if we work together.”

Dongju took the onions and started cutting them up with a demonstrative frown on his face. When he finished that, he went on to slice the tofu and mushrooms, even though Geonhak hadn’t asked him to. They did many things that bordered on romance before, but never anything as _domestic_ as cooking together. In that moment, the feeling of Dongju’s hip bumping against his own in the small kitchen felt like the only thing that had been missing from Geonhak’s life.

There were no sounds in the kitchen except for the soft sizzling of meat, and Geonhak was overcome with a sense of peace that he’d only ever felt after sleeping with Dongju, when they were cuddling. He thought it was due to the surge of dopamine in his brain, just pure biology, but it seemed to be the result of sharing silences with Dongju.

Some people had a naturally calming effect on others, like his roommates Giwook and Hyungu. They were both soft-spoken by nature, with Hyungu being a bookworm that genuinely liked the quiet and Giwook just always looking like he was living in a daydream. But Dongju wasn’t one of those people. He was childish and a tease and didn’t know how to stop laughing when he found something really funny, and Geonhak loved all those things about him, but they definitely set him apart from “healing” people.

That’s why it was so strange to realize that Dongju was the only person in his life that put him completely at ease. Dongju’s presence, his scent, the way his oversized clothes softened the otherwise sharp lines of his body, the roundness of his cheeks, it all made Geonhak’s life look just a little more soft-hued. It was the boring, stupidly small things like that, like Dongju humming contently after smelling their unfinished kimchi-jjigae, that made him realize the world was a kinder place with Son Dongju in it.

Which was ironic, because Son Dongju, and the things Geonhak felt for him, were anything but kind to him.

“How long until it’s finished?” Dongju asked.

“About twenty-five minutes.”

“That’s too long,” Dongju decided, and pushed the cutting board aside to sit on the countertop.

“So what, you’re going to pass the time by sitting on the counter?”

“No, I’m going to look adorable until you kiss me,” Dongju said plainly, dangling his legs a little to prove his point. Geonhak couldn’t do anything but smile at his antics as he put one hand on his thigh, gently parting his legs to settle between them, and started kissing him.

They kissed lazily, without a rush, the kind of kisses they rarely shared. Geonhak cherished the opportunity to focus on nothing but the minty taste of Dongju’s lips, so he slid against them even slower than the already slow rhythm Dongju had set. And surprisingly, Dongju didn’t get mad at him for being a tease, he adjusted to him.

Even so, he wrapped his legs around Geonhak’s waist, pulling him closer, and the hand that Geonhak kept on his neck slid up and gently tangled in his hair. Dongju made a little sound at the back of his throat, but not a moan, more of a happy hum. His lips were so warm and pliant and Geonhak could’ve spent an eternity kissing him, if not for humans’ dumb need to breathe and Dongju’s dumb ability to take his breath away.

“Fucking in the kitchen is not sanitary, you know.”

“I literally let you spit in my mouth, Geonhak, I think we’re long past sanitary.”

That was about as much as they managed to say before Dongju caught his lips again, no longer patient enough for leisurely kissing. Instead of resting his hands on Geonhak’s chest like before, he put them on each side of Geonhak’s face, urging him to kiss him harder. Because Dongju never had time to waste, and Geonhak should’ve known the cooking was just for show.

People went to coffee shops and libraries and parties with their friends with benefits, but they didn’t eat home-cooked kimchi-jjigae with them. There were some lines Dongju let him step on, but never cross. All Geonhak could do was stand there, laughing at his own inability to take such a small step, staring at all the beautiful things on the other side of the line.

Dongju licked into Geonhak’s mouth, sucked on his tongue and bit his lower lip, and he took and took and took, like he always did. Geonhak’s worst fear was that one day, he won’t have anything to give him anymore. Until that day, he resolved to give his entire heart, every time, but now that Dongju was kissing him like he wanted to ruin him, he realized that perhaps he’d been ruined long ago.

“You’re right, I don’t want cum in my kimchi,” Dongju pulled away to say. “Let me suck you off? I promise I’ll swallow it all.”

“I can’t do this.”

Dongju released him from his hold, and Geonhak knew it would be the last time.

“If you’re not in the mood today, we can just eat,” Dongju shrugged, unaffected.

“That’s not it. I can’t do _this_ , whatever the fuck it is we’re doing.”

“Why?” Dongju’s voice was strained with confusion. “We’re having fun, aren’t we?”

“It’s not fun anymore.”

“Did you get bored of me?” Dongju accused. “Am I not good enough anymore? Is there someone else?”

“That’s not it, okay?!” Geonhak sounded harsher than he wanted to, but he couldn’t stand the conversation anymore. “I just don’t want to sleep with you anymore, alright?”

“Where’s this even coming from?” Dongju kept pushing. “You literally fucked me six ways from Sunday yesterday, you came here today, we made lunch, we kissed, and now you decide you _can’t do this anymore_?”

“God, Dongju, can you stop being selfish for one fucking second?!” Geonhak snapped. “Is it really the end of the world that one person doesn’t want to fuck you? It’s not like you’ll have a hard time replacing me, so stop making a big deal out of it!”

Geonhak knew he was being unfair. He knew that Dongju didn’t sleep with anyone else since he met him, but goddamn it, Dongju was unfair too. He was the sharpest person Geonhak knew, there was no way in all their six months of sleeping together he hadn’t noticed the way Geonhak looked at him. Yet he chose to ignore it, to purposefully use Geonhak, and while Giwook would argue Geonhak was letting himself be used, it’s still not what friends did.

But the moment he saw Dongju’s head fall, almost like he’s afraid of him, Geonhak regretted ever raising his voice. He wasn’t supposed to look so vulnerable. He was supposed to yell back at him, to keep pestering him until he got his way, to give Geonhak a reason to hate him. And yet, he stared at his feet like a child, painfully aware that it was all his fault.

“I’m sorry,” Dongju said in his smallest voice. “If that’s what you want, I understand.”

Geonhak wanted to cry. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, but in that moment, all he could think about was how he wished he could cry. But he couldn’t, not in front of Dongju. If this was the last time he saw him, he didn’t want Dongju to remember what they had by yelling and crying in the kitchen.

“Are we still friends?” Dongju gathered the courage to ask.

“I don’t know.”

Geonhak heard the sound of heavy keys dangling outside the door, and he almost wanted to laugh at how faith wouldn’t even let him have this one last moment with Dongju.

“Rehearsals ended early, you better not be fucking,” Dongmyeong sing-songed from the hallway, then stopped in his tracks when he reached the open kitchen. “Oh my god. Not in _the kitchen_.”

“Geonhak was just leaving.”

“I –”

“Well, you were, weren’t you?” Dongju interrupted him, and his empty voice crushed Geonhak even more than the sad, guilty one. “Take your kimchi-jjigae.”

“You haven’t ea –”

“Just take it.”

Dongju wouldn’t look him in the eye, but Geonhak knew he needed to leave. He turned off the stove, the kimchi threatening to boil out the pot at that point, but instead of taking it, he just moved it to the side. He knew Dongju wouldn’t eat it, but it was the last thing he could give him.

He walked past Dongmyeong, who looked extremely perplexed and uncomfortable, giving him just a courteous nod, and walked out of the room without a goodbye. And that’s what pained him the most.

The thing about last times is that no one knew they were the last. When he came to Dongju’s room that day, he didn’t know his pathetic heart would burst at nothing at all, at his own anxious thoughts. Yesterday, when he made love to Dongju, he didn’t know it would be the last time. If he did, he would’ve been a little gentler, he would’ve kissed him a little more, called him more of those endearments he could only get away with in the bedroom.

And that’s what finally broke him.

The fact that he couldn’t say goodbye to Dongju, because it didn’t feel like a goodbye. It didn’t feel like two people parting ways in search of other things, it just felt like another pointless injustice. Like waking up from a beautiful dream only to realize it wasn’t real, so empty that he wished he had a nightmare instead. It felt like two people who didn’t want to part, but did so out of fear of waking up from the dream.

And for its last trick, the universe made him realize that maybe, Dongju loved him too.

* * *

“Okay, so, what just happened here?”

“Nothing,” Dongju said flatly. “Eat the kimchi-jjigae if you’re hungry.”

“Not before you tell me what’s going on,” Dongmyeong insisted. “You’re literally a second away from crying.”

“Just _shut the fuck up_ ,” Dongju let out a long exhale that let Dongmyeong know he shouldn’t keep pushing. Dongju would tell him when he’s ready, he always tells him.

“Alright, well, let’s eat then,” Dongmyeong tried to sound cheerful, but Dongju still wouldn’t look at him.

“Not hungry.”

“Can you at least keep me company while I eat?” Dongmyeong asked very softly, very carefully. Dongju didn’t give him an answer, but he sat down at the table, so Dongmyeong gave him a grateful and reassuring smile.

He knew that Dongju liked being distracted when he was feeling unwell. When he needed to vent, he came to him first, and that’s when Dongmyeong would just listen and not give any unsolicited advice. But when he shut down like this, which Dongmyeong learned to be his worst type of sadness, he needed Dongmyeong to talk about anything and everything, as long as it’s light-hearted and interesting.

And boy, did Dongmyeong have a story for him.

“I have a date in an hour.”

Dongju laughed. It was short and sarcastic, more of a chuckle, really, but still a success in Dongmyeong’s book. “No way. You haven’t been on a date in six years.”

That was true. Ever since he realized he liked Giwook, Dongmyeong didn’t even try to get over him. He broke up with his then-boyfriend just a few days after making sure of his feelings, under the excuse of simply getting too busy with school. It’s not that he wanted to keep suffering, he just didn’t have the heart to string people along, so he decided it would be best to leave third parties out of his already messy relationship with Giwook. It was complicated enough as it was.

“Yeah, but maybe it’s time for a change,” Dongmyeong mused. He played with the food in his bowl, twirling his chopsticks without a purpose just to avoid looking at Dongju.

Now that he said it out loud for the first time, it sounded ridiculous to him too. The fact that he was going on a date with another man. Maybe it had just been too long, or maybe it was because he couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect for him than Giwook, but it did feel wrong, and he understood why Dongju thought he was pulling a prank on him.

“Who is he?”

“A senior from the dance department. Lee Junyoung, do you know him?”

“Never heard of him,” Dongju said after some thinking. “Now you’re just making shit up. Show me his Instagram.”

“Why is it so hard to believe I have a date?” Dongmyeong laughed. “Apparently, the seniors in the dance department have to take our Acting Fundamentals class too, I just never noticed him because it’s such a huge class. But I guess he noticed me, and yeah, he waited for me after class yesterday and asked if I wanted to grab coffee with him sometime.”

“And that’s it? You don’t know anything about the guy, but you decided to go on a date with him?” Dongju raised an eyebrow.

“I know he’s hot!” Dongmyeong defended himself. “Plus, it’s just one date, it’s not like I have to marry him. I’m just… getting out there, I guess.”

“Are you, really? Do you _want_ to get out there?” Dongju asked seriously.

“It’s not that I want to, but…” Dongmyeong stumbled to find the right words, his smile turning incredibly sad. “I mean, let’s be honest, it’s been six years. We both know Giwook and I aren’t going to happen at this point. And as much as I love him, I… I don’t want to be alone forever.”

“Look, I’m not saying don’t go on the date. Sure, get out, see what the man’s serving, but… You’re going to regret not confessing to Giwook.”

“Wow, thanks, I’ll just straight up regret it,” Dongmyeong chuckled. He loved that about his brother – he skipped the formalities and didn’t filter his words to spare anyone’s feelings. Without Dongju’s razor-sharp tongue, Dongmyeong would probably be stuck in a vicious circle of denial and self-pity.

“You know you will,” Dongju said simply. “Again, I’m not saying you shouldn’t, but you don’t _have to_ do this. You could be with him right now.”

“I just feel like we’re past the point of no return,” Dongmyeong sighed, feeling himself getting a little more vulnerable than he intended to. “Like there was a window of time, probably somewhere in high school, when we could’ve confessed, but we chose to go on with this and now there’s just no point in changing anything.”

“I really, really don’t get your logic, but suit yourself,” Dongju obviously had no energy to deal with his brother’s problems when his own seemed so much bigger in his eyes. “I said what I had to say. You’re supposed to be with Giwook.”

“I get it, you’re all team Giwook, but I said what I had to say too,” Dongmyeong stood firmly behind his words. “It’s time to make peace with the way things are. Even if we do, somehow, miraculously end up together at some point, I’m not going to sit around and wait for that to happen anymore.”

“Okay.”

Dongju went silent, staring at the table in front of him while barely blinking, and Dongmyeong knew that even though he tried his best to support him through his crisis, he had a lot on his own plate already. Whatever had just happened with Geonhak left him looking like a shell of himself, distressed and barely keeping himself from tearing apart at the seams. Dongmyeong knew that look very well, because he’d seen it every time Dongju stood at a crossroad in his life and started doubting himself, like in their last year of high school when he let college applications and existential dread consume him.

“The kimchi is really good,” Dongmyeong said with a mouthful of food, trying to break the silence so Dongju couldn’t overthink whatever it was he was thinking about, but Dongju’s glare let him know it was the wrong move. “He made this for you, you know. You should eat it.”

He immediately regretted not putting more thought into his choice of words, because Dongju’s eyes filled with tears again. He still didn’t let them slip down his cheeks, not yet, but he was having a harder time keeping them in this time. Dongmyeong’s brotherly instinct made him want to run to Geonhak’s room and strangle him for leaving his brother in this state, though rationally he knew Geonhak would never do anything to hurt anyone, least of all Dongju.

“You’ll feel better if you cry, Juya,” Dongmyeong said as he stroked his brother’s hand. “I’ll cancel my date if you need me here.”

“I need to be alone,” Dongju rasped, quickly rubbing his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater. “Enjoy the date. Bring me ice cream when you come back.”

“I’ll bring you cake from a fancy café to go with it,” Dongmyeong smiled from ear to ear, even though seeing Dongju cry broke his heart. “I’ll go change now.”

“No way, I’m not letting you dress yourself for a date. You’re always either too boring or too slutty,” Dongju glared at him. “I’ll bring something from my closet.”

Dongmyeong’s felt warmth wash over him when he saw his brother putting his feelings aside for his sake, even though he never asked him to. He knew Dongju loved Giwook almost as much as he did, but he still wanted Dongmyeong to be happy first and foremost, even if it meant their group dynamics shifting. It made Dongmyeong feel a little less guilty, a little less like he was cheating on someone he wasn’t even dating.

Dongju rummaged through his closet for five short minutes, before coming back with a white button-up and a pair of black skinny jeans Dongmyeong knew he saved for special occasions.

“No way, that’s too fancy for a first date!”

“Not if you wear casual shoes,” Dongju insisted as he threw the clothes at him. “You don’t have time to argue, I know what I’m talking about.”

Dongmyeong begrudgingly went to the bathroom and put Dongju’s clothes on, and he had to admit, he looked good. Dongju was just a little taller and heavier than him, so the jeans that looked extremely tight on him were a bit more comfortable on Dongmyeong, but still flattering enough to make him do a double-take at his own reflection. He topped it off with a big cardigan, because he still thought the shirt was too much, but Dongju seemed satisfied with the final product.

Taking one last look at their full-body mirror in the hallway (that was mostly just there for Hwanwoong’s mirror selfies), it finally sunk in what he was about to do, and he became inexplicably anxious again. He hated himself for overthinking such a stupid thing – people his age went on dates all the time, and it wasn’t like he just found some sketchy guy on Grindr. Junyoung was attractive and approached him very politely and Dongmyeong _knew_ he wasn’t doing anything wrong by going out with him, but Dongju’s words still echoed through his head.

_“You’re going to regret not confessing to Giwook.”_

He shook his head as if it would shake the intrusive thoughts out of it, said one last goodbye to Dongju, and left the room with newfound determination. Just for one night, he wasn’t going to think about Giwook, he was going to live his life as a normal twenty-year-old and have fun, and if the date doesn’t lead anywhere, at least he’ll know he gave it a shot.

Junyoung insisted on waiting for him in front of his dorm building, even though Dongmyeong assumed they would just go to the same coffee shop right next to the campus where everyone went on first dates. It was very sweet of him, and Dongmyeong wished he had a little more spring in his step and a little more butterflies in his belly.

True to his word, Junyoung was outside the building exactly on time, and Dongmyeong couldn’t help but smile when he saw how hard he was trying to mask his nervousness.

“Hi, hyung!” he greeted him. “Were you waiting long?”

“No, I just got here!” Junyoung rubbed his neck in a futile attempt to look casual. “You look… amazing.”

Dongmyeong’s cheeks heated up involuntarily, because it had been such a long time since anyone flirted with him. Even when they started college, everyone just assumed he was dating Giwook and never questioned it, and while Dongmyeong was grateful for all the trouble it saved him, it felt nice to be appreciated and romanced a bit.

After he thanked Junyoung, it struck him that he should’ve returned the compliment. Junyoung _did_ look amazing, more than amazing, really. He was wearing a black blazer with a matching v-neck underneath, which made him look even more like a cool senior anyone would die to date, and also made Dongmyeong feel a little less over-dressed.

“Um, so, I parked just over there, I hope you’re okay with a twenty-minute drive?” Junyoung said. “There’s this dog café I really wanted to take you to, but it’s a little farther from campus, so I thought it would be easier to go by car.”

“A dog café?” Dongmyeong squealed. “Oh my god, of course!”

They headed for the parking lot, when Dongmyeong noticed someone standing in front of his building with two big plastic bags full of snacks in his hands.

“Oh. Giwook, hi.”

Giwook swallowed and gave him and Junyoung a shy little bow. “Uh, hi, I was just –”

“Hi! Are you a friend of Dongmyeong’s?” Junyoung asked him cheerfully, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness of the situation. “I’m Lee Junyoung.”

“Lee Giwook,” Giwook bowed once again, because he had no idea what else to do, and Dongmyeong wished the ground would just swallow him whole and save him from life’s cruel little pranks.

“I’m so sorry, did I interrupt something?” Junyoung realized. “We can reschedule if you have other –”

“No, no, I was just going to visit Dongmyeong’s roommates,” Giwook quickly interrupted him with unnecessary enthusiasm. “You guys go enjoy your date.”

Ah. So he’d been standing there for long enough to figure out it was a date. Junyoung looked back at Dongmyeong, silently asking for permission, and Dongmyeong assured him with a nod and a smile.

“Well, then, if you don’t mind, I’ll steal Dongmyeongie for just a few hours,” he smiled at Giwook, even being brave enough to put his arm around Dongmyeong’s shoulders. “I’ll have him home by midnight, I promise.”

They waved goodbye to Giwook, and Dongmyeong watched him turn around and walk back to his own dorm building from the passenger seat of Junyoung’s car.

* * *

Hyungu came home to his two roommates sitting on the floor, surrounded by bags of snacks and empty bottles of soju at six in the afternoon.

Giwook probably drank the least in their friend group, which is why it was so surprising and mildly concerning to find him willingly gulping down soju straight from the bottle. For one, it took very little to get him drunk, and he’d avoided alcohol like the plague ever since Yonghoon filmed him acting all cutesy and couldn’t stop talking about it for the next five days.

Secondly, Dongmyeong was even more of a lightweight, but unlike Giwook, he _loved_ drinking, so someone had to take care of him. And god forbid anyone took away Giwook’s chance to take care of him – they’d get the silent treatment for at least a week.

Geonhak didn’t drink much either, he said it hindered his muscle training, so seeing the two of them drink together was more than suspicious. And yet there they were, and Hyungu thought it was safe to blame on a certain pair of twins.

“Wanna join the pity party?” Geonhak invited him when he realized Hyungu had come into the room.

“Ew, no, I don’t want to hear about his het struggles,” Giwook made a sour face, but Hyungu was settling down between them already. He took an unopened bottle of soju and just sipped from it, because he obviously didn’t feel quite as miserable as his friends, but a drink could never hurt.

“What’s with this child, why is he so sassy today?” Hyungu asked Geonhak.

“Dongmyeong went on a date. Don’t take it personally.”

“Holy shit, really?”

“He has a car, Hyungu, a _car_ ,” Giwook sobbed between two large gulps. Hyungu could only pat him on the back, but he knew he couldn’t grasp his friend’s feelings. He had never loved anyone for as long and as hard as Giwook loved Dongmyeong.

“I mean, it’s just one date, it’s not like he’s getting married – and even if he was, you could still object,” he clumsily tried to comfort him.

It was a widely accepted theory in their friend group, that they’d get together by one of them making a scene at the other’s wedding, but everyone knew Giwook couldn’t look at someone else even if he wanted to. He’d already announced that if he didn’t end up with Dongmyeong by the time they graduated college, he would just retreat into the hills and raise sheep. Hyungu got sad just thinking about it.

“Yeah, don’t lose hope,” Geonhak interjected. “I mean, look at Hyungu. He goes on so many dates, and no one ever calls him back.”

“Hey!”

Geonhak wasn’t wrong. Hyungu went on at least one date a week, because, for reasons unknown to him, girls on campus generally found him cute. It’s not like he had a personal fan club or love letters piling at his door every day, but he could get a number at every party he went to. He didn’t brag about it, it just so happened and he had no reason to reject perfectly nice and pretty girls. But somehow, nothing ever panned out for him.

His last relationship had been his longest one, lasting a whole six months, before the girl fell in love with someone else. Hyungu wasn’t bitter about it, not really, simply because it wasn’t in his blood to resent anyone. But he couldn’t deny he was hurt. He had to use alcohol as an excuse to talk about his feelings, mostly to Yonghoon, who was the only one polite enough to actually listen to him. Everyone else had gotten bored of the same old story after three months.

So he started dating again, but the most he could ever get was three dates. He thought the dates went well – no sparks or fireworks going off, but there were no awkward silences or glaring red lights either. He’d get coffee with a girl who, truthfully, didn’t look much different from the girl he had had coffee with the week before, she’d laugh at a few of his jokes and he’d listen carefully to interesting facts about her field of study, and if he’s lucky, they’d repeat it one or two more times. And then, radio silence.

The honest ones always told him the same thing – they just didn’t feel a connection. Personally, that’s not what Hyungu thought love was. It wasn’t something you can feel after meeting someone for the first time. He liked to give things time, in everything he did, because he believed the most beautiful things to be fruits of dedication and perseverance. Like his friends’ relationships – like Giwook spending years nurturing his love for when he finds the courage to express it, or Geonhak challenging Dongju’s beliefs about relationships and not giving up even if he has to take the long way to his heart. Granted, neither of them were in a very healthy state at the moment, but he appreciated that they gave their loved ones more chances than the girls he dated gave him.

After years of going down dead-end streets, Hyungu thought he just wasn’t special enough. He could understand why all his friends were loved the way he so desperately wanted to be loved – they were larger than life, unafraid to dance at the center of a club, always laughing, always making others laugh, always commanding attention. But Hyungu wasn’t like that. He carried a book everywhere as a shield, he could barely speak to strangers, and there was nothing particularly eye-catching about his looks.

He’d only ever shared that thought with Yonghoon, and it took the elder five seconds to convince him how false it was. He took Hyungu’s face in his hands, and told him just how special he was to him until Hyungu started crying. Yonghoon made him feel loved. Yonghoon made him feel at home.

It was a running joke in their friend group, how Hyungu’s life would be easier if he just “turned gay” and dated Yonghoon, and they both laughed it off every time. They knew there were rumors about them on campus, and Hyungu had had a girlfriend break up with him because she was jealous of Yonghoon. Hyungu found it incredibly childish, and never stopped to question it.

And yet.

He knew he didn’t like men. All his life, ever since his first little middle school crushes, he’d only ever looked at girls that way. Now, granted, he hadn’t liked that many _people_ in his life, but he never craved any type of affection from a man on lonely nights.

Until Yonghoon came along.

It was strange, because Yonghoon was the last person to join their circle, but in just a few months he became his closest friend. Hyungu dreaded the word “connection”, but that’s what it was. The first night they met, at Youngjo’s birthday party last year, Hyungu didn’t want to talk to anyone else but him. He forgot what they even talked about, but he remembered how much he laughed, how he forgot he was supposed to drink or look for a girlfriend, and how they immediately exchanged numbers even though they knew they’d keep bumping into each other with all the mutual friends they had.

It was strange, because they had few things in common, with Yonghoon being the personification of a golden retriever and Hyungu being more of a self-sufficient cat, but it just worked out. Everything about being with Yonghoon was easy, in a way not many of Hyungu’s friendships were – they talked for hours, openly and honestly, as hard as it was for Hyungu to open up, they studied together without saying a word all night, they texted in class minutes after seeing each other, they were just themselves.

He didn’t see anything wrong with it until Giwook pointed out he always called Yonghoon when he was drunk. Hyungu didn’t understand what that had to do with anything – Yonghoon was responsible, didn’t get angry at being woken up at three in the morning, and everyone knew it was his duty as the formally appointed dad friend. (Youngjo was still sulky about his title being taken, but everyone else unanimously agreed Yonghoon was a more fitting choice because he wasn’t dating anyone in the group.)

But then Giwook told him how clingy he got, which was _incredibly_ non-Hyungu. He hated physical affection more than anyone, probably even more than Seoho and Geonhak, and he had no idea what he acted like until Giwook got him on tape. In an attempt to figure out why he felt so desperate to cuddle with Yonghoon every time he had a few drinks, he started hugging him sober too.

It was incredibly awkward on his part at first, and Yonghoon was visibly surprised, but he’d quickly melt into the touch every time. It came as no surprise to Hyungu; Yonghoon was always hugging Youngjo’s waist, pulling Dongmyeong in his lap, kissing Giwook’s shoulders, really, whoever was closest to him at the moment would become the target of his unlimited affection. He even annoyed Seoho and Geonhak by asking for kisses sometimes, but never Hyungu. He never even tentatively touched his shoulder first, and Hyungu was hurt by that at first, but he soon realized it was just Yonghoon respecting his boundaries.

Once he erased those boundaries, his relationship with Yonghoon became much more confusing, so he drew them back quickly. But he kept getting drunk to have an excuse to put his defenses down again.

He simply didn’t like men. Girls were softer, they smelled better, they were just safe and familiar and there was nothing to dislike about them. But Yonghoon was safe and familiar too.

Hyungu scratched that thought, and started over. Would he kiss Yonghoon? Well, if he had to choose one of his friends – no, if he had to choose any man in the world to kiss, he would choose Yonghoon. _If_ he was ever curious about kissing a man, which he wasn’t. Again, girls tasted like fruit cakes and vanilla coffee, and sure, their lip glosses sometimes got a little sticky, but it was nothing much to complain about. But he still wondered, if Yonghoon’s lips felt as soft as they looked.

Scrapping another thought, he went into a spiral of half-finished hypotheses until he realized it was pointless to think about it at all. Even if he _did_ like Yonghoon (which he didn’t), the feeling surely wouldn’t be mutual. There were no signs pointing otherwise. Yonghoon was a close friend, and pining over close friends was never a good idea. Just look at Giwook, burping like a baby with stomach pains in a futile attempt to vomit out his soju.

As time passed, it only sounded sillier to him that he ever entertained the idea of liking Yonghoon that way. He didn’t stop craving his hugs, because Yonghoon was practically just a big, soft, human-shaped furnace, and he didn’t stop drinking to get them, but he left it at that. Life was hectic enough as it was, he didn’t need a sexuality crisis just because he was touch-starved. And he definitely couldn’t afford losing a friend over it.

“What about your twin, what did he do this time?” he turned to Geonhak instead.

“He’s not _my_ twin,” Geonhak chuckled bitterly. “And he didn’t do anything. I was the one who broke it off.”

“Broke it off?”

Geonhak dropped his head to his chest, as he often did when talking about anything even slightly more personal than schoolwork, and Hyungu gave him time. Giwook was probably too drunk to listen anymore, but he was looking at Geonhak anyway.

“I went to his room for, well, you know, but then we ended up cooking lunch and it was too domestic and I just… I couldn’t take it,” Geonhak tried his hardest to keep his voice completely flat, taking a swig of soju before continuing. “I didn’t even think it through. It’s not like I went in there planning for it to be the last time. It just… it just fucking hurts, you know?”

Hyungu didn’t know – for better or for worse, he’d never really loved anyone enough to experience the type of pain his friends were currently in. He could only imagine what it felt like to love someone so much that it makes your chest hurt, and he imagined it to be somewhat close to that little squeeze in his heart when he let Yonghoon kiss his forehead after pretending to be asleep. No, that wasn’t it.

“Are you at least going to stay friends?” he redirected his attention back to Geonhak.

“I’m not sure. It wasn’t exactly an agreement. He got pretty upset at me.”

“Of course he did, because he loves you too, you dumbass,” Giwook slurred out of nowhere. Geonhak just looked at him in shock, and honestly, Hyungu wasn’t prepared for Giwook’s brutal honesty to come out either. He knew he had it in him (and he definitely got it from years of hanging out with the twins), but he was far too nice to say such things out loud – except when he was drunk.

“But then why would he insist on being friends with benefits?”

“Well, shit, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’ll probably forget it in the morning, and you won’t tell anyone anyway, so,” Giwook hiccupped. “When we were in high school, Dongju dated this absolute asshole from our class. Like, the biggest trash I’ve ever seen. He bugged him about his appearance, literally everything from his weight to his clothes, constantly told him he wasn’t “masculine” enough, practically shat on all his interests, no one really knew why he was tolerating him. Dongju broke it off once, and the scumbag had the audacity to beg him to come back. Myeong and I both begged him to leave, but he didn’t, until… well, until it turned into downright psychological abuse.”

“Holy fuck,” Geonhak put his hands on his forehead. He never cried, but Hyungu could see how much he was hurt by the mere thought of Dongju going through something like that.

“Since then, he felt like he’d never be good enough for anyone without changing every aspect of himself, and he was sick of changing for other people, so he decided to stick to the one thing that piece of shit actually liked about him. Which is, well, sex.”

Geonhak stayed silent for a while, the whole room did, keeping his face buried in his hands so they couldn’t see what he was feeling. “Why… why did he never tell me?”

“In his defense, he never told anyone but me and Dongmyeong. Shit, now I feel bad for telling you,” Giwook tried to drink again, but Hyungu took the bottle from his hand. “I don’t think anyone knows how bad it really was. I’m sure there are things he wasn’t telling us, but yeah, no one talks about it anymore. I just wanted you to know that it has nothing to do with you. He’s just trying to protect himself.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Geonhak was angry, that much Hyungu could see. He was angry, but Geonhak couldn’t get angry at anyone but himself. They gave him time to process Giwook’s words, passing it by fighting over the last bottle of soju, which Hyungu ultimately won.

“I made him feel like that too,” Geonhak broke the silence. “When I left today, he asked if he wasn’t good – Fuck, no.”

“You can cry, you know, we won’t think you’re any less manly, Muscle Man,” Giwook said softly. But Geonhak still blinked his tears away furiously, and Hyungu thought – that was what love looked like.

“I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again. How did I never notice what was going on?”

“You’re just a little dumb, but it’s part of your charm,” Hyungu giggled, because he knew Geonhak didn’t like it when people pitied him. “And, to be fair, Dongju is really good at pretending. He’s an acting major, after all.”

“This got too heavy, I think I want to listen to Hyungu’s het struggles after all.”

Geonhak appreciated their efforts to lift his spirits, he even smiled at Giwook’s suggestion. Hyungu disliked that the target was suddenly on his forehead, but he had to endure it for the sake of his heartbroken friends. But he didn’t know how to tell him what was really weighing on his mind. He couldn’t tell them his struggles weren’t all so heterosexual anymore, because he knew what they’d do – they’d try to get him and Yonghoon to date right away, and he wasn’t ready for that. The thought of dating a man still freaked him out, even if it was Yonghoon, and he felt that it was better to keep his questioning to himself until he was a hundred percent sure of his feelings.

“Girls are just ruthless, man,” he said instead, earning an eye roll from both his friends.

“At least you stopped crying about what’s-her-face, thank god,” Giwook commented.

Hyungu had to admit, ever since his chest started feeling a little tighter at the sound of Yonghoon’s name, all his exes and potential future girlfriends vanished from his mind. He simply didn’t have time to think about them when he had such an important problem to solve. Just like alcohol, they became merely an excuse to be closer to Yonghoon – if he asked to come to his room and watch romcoms together for no reason, it would be suspicious, but if he did it due to heartbreak, it was perfectly reasonable.

“Yeah, I guess I can’t just stay salty about it forever…” he nodded absent-mindedly. He could see both Geonhak and Giwook eyeing him like hawks, waiting for him to say something else, to mention a new girl he’s met, but Hyungu wasn’t a good liar. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t have one either, so he knew that if he didn’t speak carefully, his secret would soon be revealed.

“I wish I could find someone as kind as Yonghoon-hyung.”

Testing the waters. Not too risky, because they all joked about it all the time, but not subtle enough to escape people as intuitive as Giwook and Geonhak.

“You know you could always, like… date Yonghoon-hyung, right?”

“Pft, I wish,” Hyungu laughed, a little too loudly. “Everything would be so much easier.”

“Oh poor, straight, Hyungu,” Giwook groaned. “I take it back, I don’t want to listen to his struggles anymore. Let’s go to the club.”

“Are you kidding? Lee Giwook, not only accepting, but _proposing_ to go to the club?”

“What, maybe I want to find a date too, now that Dongmyeong…” Giwook tried to sound confident, but he couldn’t even finish his sentence.

Hyungu thought about it for a moment. On one hand, Giwook was already too drunk and he’d probably have to spend the night looking after him, which wasn’t really how he was planning to start the weekend. But on the other, he and Geonhak would probably sulk all night if they stayed inside. It was for their good, he told himself as he calculated how much more he’d need to drink before he called Yonghoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the angst begins 😌  
> please consider yelling at me in the comments if you absolutely hated this chapter, though i'll let you in on a little secret - hyungu was originally supposed to be str*ight, i even had a whole sad ending written out for them, but in the meantime i got too attached and decided they have suffered enough.   
> and again, thank you to the people that commented on both previous chapters, you really keep me going and i love you <3 <3 <3


	4. Cliff's Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is literally 10k words long i am so sorry i can't control myself when it's about keonhee  
> CW: there are non-graphic mentions of porn and masturbation in the middle of this chapter, really as brief as possible, but i bumped up the rating just in case!

Hwanwoong had had the keys to Youngjo’s dorm since he graduated high school and, to no one’s surprise, chose the same college as his boyfriend.

They hadn’t requested to be in the same room because Hwanwoong feared they’d get bored of each other, but they ended up spending all their time together anyway. He didn’t regret it though, he loved sharing a room with Dongmyeong and Dongju (well, when Geonhak wasn’t over and Dongju wasn’t moaning loud enough for the whole campus to hear), and Youngjo loved his roommate too, so it all worked out for them.

But after seven years, he realized there was simply no way he’d ever get bored of Youngjo, and vice versa. So as Youngjo’s graduation approached, they started talking about living together, and even though it sounded like such a huge step at their age, they were nothing but excited. Even Hwanwoong, who was usually terrified of how much he loved Youngjo and how serious their relationship was, made a Pinterest board full of ideas for decorating their apartment, and Youngjo was more than happy to spend hours adding to it with him.

It might’ve been a little idealistic on their part, since they weren’t sure they could both get jobs so quickly, especially with Hwanwoong still in college, but he was sure they could save up for a tiny studio in a more modest part of the city. He knew Youngjo had been secretly saving up from his tutoring sessions, because he hadn’t gone shopping in months, and he absolutely loved shopping. It was very sweet of him, and it made Hwanwoong all the more determined to get an income of his own. Even if it meant losing precious sleep, it would all be worth it once he finally built a home with the love of his life.

That day, he went straight to Youngjo’s room after class to grab his glasses that he had forgotten the last time he slept over. He knew Youngjo would be in the studio for another half-hour, but he always got so happy when he came home to his boyfriend, so Hwanwoong decided to stay after getting his glasses and surprise him.

When he unlocked the door, Yonghoon wasn’t there, so he briefly entertained the idea of making his surprise a little sexier and waiting for Youngjo in nothing but his hoodie. As much as he loved the thought, his body was sore from a full day of dancing, so if Youngjo wanted sexy, he’d have to make an effort himself.

A low rumble in his belly stopped his search for glasses and led him to the kitchen instead. He already knew by heart which groceries were Yonghoon’s and which Youngjo’s, though Yonghoon wouldn’t get mad even if he took some of his stuff. There wasn’t much to choose from, aside from five different flavors of instant noodles, so Hwanwoong clicked his tongue and made a mental note to give his boyfriend another speech on the importance of healthy nutrition the second he got home.

“I have to call mom and learn how to cook before we move in, this man is going to die,” Hwanwoong muttered to himself as he searched for things to put in a sandwich. His cheeks heated up when he realized what he was thinking about – he, who never had much interest in cooking and, frankly, ate even more instant noodles than Youngjo, was fantasizing about making a real, wholesome meal for his boyfriend. The things Youngjo did to him.

After he ate his sandwich and washed the plate, like the good guest he was, he went back to the original goal of his visit – finding his glasses. They weren’t on Youngjo’s bedside table, where he had last left them, so he concluded his boyfriend must’ve put them somewhere safer so he doesn’t accidentally break them. He opened the top drawer of the nightstand, but it was filled with a bunch of Youngjo’s accessories and phone cases and left no space for Hwanwoong’s glasses. He had to rummage through the second drawer a little bit, because Youngjo used it for everything from lube and condoms to his class notes, but he didn’t find what he was looking for there either.

He opened the third drawer, which was empty save for two things – Hwanwoong’s glasses, and a large brown envelope. Hwanwoong sighed in relief when he finally put his glasses on his face, and he reached to close the drawer, but from the corner of his eye he could see the address on the envelope wasn’t written in Korean.

Despite being a very possessive person, Hwanwoong was never controlling. He never went through Youngjo’s stuff, let alone his phone, because if a trustworthy man existed in this world, it was Youngjo. In all their years of dating, Youngjo had never given him the slightest reason to doubt his feelings – he’d call Hwanwoong the second he woke up to tell him about the dream he had, that’s how open he was.

Hwanwoong had a stare-down with the envelope for a few moments, but even with his glasses on, he couldn’t read the address from that distance. He knew he shouldn’t pry, but curiosity got the best of him and he took the envelope out, just to check what language the sender’s address was in. That was it, he wouldn’t open it.

It was all written in characters similar to hanja, so at first he assumed it was Chinese, but then he saw English words at the very bottom.

_Tokyo University of the Arts._

It took a second for Hwanwoong’s brain to catch up. He frantically opened the envelope, not without noticing it had already been cut open, and among a million papers he couldn’t read, grabbed a smaller, white envelope. That one had been opened too.

_“Dear sir Kim Youngjo,_

_We’re happy to inform you that you have been accepted to our Creativity of Music and Sound Master’s Program. Additionally, as you have displayed exceptional talent in your application and portfolio, you will be awarded a full scholarship, that will cover your tuition, accommodation, living expenses, and a monthly allowance. Thank you for showing interest in our faculty, we look forward to seeing you in the following semester. Please give us your final answer by November 30 th, and hopefully we will be welcoming you on April 1st next year. _

_Kind regards,_

_Tokyo University of the Arts Admissions Officers”_

Hwanwoong re-read the letter over and over again, hoping his lack of fluency in English was playing tricks on him, but he knew very well that a thick envelope full of guides, brochures and a course catalog could only mean one thing.

Youngjo was accepted to a Master’s program. He even got a scholarship as an international student, which must’ve been hard, Hwanwoong should be proud, he should be happy for his boyfriend, but… But he never even told him he was applying to graduate schools.

They had discussed it many times, Youngjo’s plans for the future, and continuing his education was never once brought up. Youngjo always said – bragged, really – that he had more than enough credentials on his CV to get a starting position at an entertainment company, so he didn’t want to waste any more time before he could produce full-time, and truthfully, not many artists went to graduate school unless they wanted to become professors.

It felt like a stab to the chest. They told each other _everything_ , even the grittiest, most embarrassing parts of their lives – hell, Hwanwoong had _witnessed_ the grittiest and most embarrassing parts of Youngjo’s life first-hand, so why did he keep something so important from him?

Was he just going to leave?

That must’ve been it. Hwanwoong laughed at first, at his own stupidity, at the childish delusions he’d been living in all that time. Youngjo never planned on settling down with him straight out of college, why would he? He probably realized that he threw away his college years for Hwanwoong, but he didn’t have to throw away his entire youth too. He was finally going to become fully independent, of course he wasn’t going to let a dumb high school crush ruin that for him.

And then, Hwanwoong started crying. He clutched Youngjo’s stupid letter in his hand, pulled his knees to his chest, and cried loudly and uncontrollably as everything he thought he knew came crashing down on him at once.

Youngjo was leaving.

He was really leaving him, and he didn’t even love him enough to warn him.

He heard the door unlock and hastily wiped the tears off his face, but they wouldn’t stop rushing back. He hated the way he recognized the sound of Youngjo’s footsteps in the hallway.

“Yonghoonie, are you home?” Youngjo’s voice echoed through the small dorm. “Oh, baby, I didn’t see you there! Wait, what’s…”

Hwanwoong didn’t say anything, but Youngjo’s face paled when he noticed his glassy eyes, and the envelope in his hands.

“No, no, baby, wait –”

“So you’re moving to Japan?” Hwanwoong asked flatly.

“No, please, let me explain,” Youngjo raced to find the right words before Hwanwoong could shut him out. “You know I didn’t plan to go to grad school, but my Songwriting professor told me I should apply for this program, so I… Fuck, I don’t even know why I did it, I didn’t think they’d accept me… Of course I haven’t accepted the offer yet.”

“Yet,” Hwanwoong huffed out a laugh.

“You know I’d never do something like that without talking to you.”

“How do I know?” Hwanwoong put his defenses up, and pain made way for anger. “You didn’t tell me you were applying to study in fucking _Japan_ , so why wouldn’t you just get up and go as well?”

“Baby, calm down…” Youngjo tried weakly. “Can we sit down and talk about this peacefully?”

“You’re so unfair,” a traitorous tear slid down Hwanwoong’s face. “You were just going to leave, and what, expect me to wait for a year? Or am I supposed to pack my bags and fly to Japan like a good little lap dog?”

“You could be happy for me, for a start,” Youngjo snapped.

Hwanwoong couldn’t believe what was happening. Just yesterday, he was showing Youngjo matching cat mugs they could buy for their apartment, and Youngjo kissed his forehead and said he loved them, and now, he was choking on his own sobs because it was all over. Youngjo knew all along what he was planning to do, and he still let him believe he was going to stay forever.

“Right. That’s all that matters. That I’m happy for you. That I’m supporting you. You never even stopped to wonder how _I_ ’d feel about this. Because I’m a given to you.”

Youngjo realized his mistake all too late, and his eyes started filling with tears too. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times in an attempt to say something, anything, but deep down he knew nothing he could say would be enough to ease the pain he caused Hwanwoong.

The younger threw the letter on Youngjo’s bed and got up, and he could see Youngjo falling to pieces in front of him. They had never had a real fight. Petty arguments, of course, especially in that one year when Youngjo started college and Hwanwoong still had a year left in high school, so they were both too busy to meet often. But it never lasted longer than a day. Youngjo had a policy to never let Hwanwoong go to bed angry, so even if they spent an entire day yelling at each other, at night he would call him and tell him how much he loved him, and they would leave it all behind.

Hwanwoong thought there wasn’t a single obstacle he couldn’t overcome for Youngjo, _with_ Youngjo. Even if the whole world turned its back on them, Youngjo could make everything okay, Youngjo was his hero.

But right now, Youngjo was helpless. His fingers clenched and unclenched in a desperate need to take Hwanwoong’s hand, to stop him from leaving, but there was a wall between them, and he’d already broken all his knuckles trying to break through it.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Hwanwoong sighed. “I can’t just be _us_ forever. I need to be me for once.”

“Hwanwoong…”

“That’s what you did, isn’t it?” Hwanwoong smiled, but there was no malice to it, just utter exhaustion. “I am happy for you, Youngjo. Of course I am. And if leaving me is what makes you happy, then I’ll make that easier for you too.”

“Please, please –” Youngjo rasped, but his own sob cut him off.

Hwanwoong had so many things to say, but none of them were coming out. He walked out of Youngjo’s apartment without a goodbye, and he knew it wasn’t enough, but it was the only thing he could do.

* * *

Hyungu was fucked.

He let his roommates coax him into drinking way too much, and now he was too drunk to take care of himself, let alone them. Giwook was in his field of vision, at least, crying together with some poor girl who probably had a similar experience as him, but Geonhak was nowhere to be found.

He couldn’t leave Giwook alone in a club full of strangers, but he couldn’t let Geonhak wander off to Dongju’s room either. And most importantly, he couldn’t even stand straight.

The club they went to just outside of campus was suffocatingly full, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise given it was a Friday night, but Hyungu had only been to clubs twice in his life, so he forgot just how much he hated them. Even house parties were pushing it for him, but blaring EDM, obnoxiously colored flashing lights and the sweaty bodies of complete strangers pressing into him were entirely too much. He couldn’t leave until he found Geonhak, but he couldn’t stand another second in his personal hell either.

And then he remembered why he’d agreed to it in the first place.

Yonghoon. The scent of Yonghoon’s cologne enveloping him as he carried him home, the little giggles Yonghoon couldn’t hold back whenever Hyungu tripped over his own feet, Yonghoon whispering ‘good night’ before letting the younger crash in his bed and setting himself up a spot on the couch instead. Yonghoon.

He remembered how he first realized his feelings for Yonghoon might’ve gone a little past friendship. After Giwook called him out on the excessive cuddling and he started doing his little thought experiments, he came to the conclusion that it would best to get a straight person’s perspective too.

And there was no one straighter than Ju Harin.

At first, he was embarrassed to talk about his doubts out loud for the first time, but in addition to being the straightest, Harin was also one of his oldest and closest friends, so there was no better person to confide in.

He went to Harin’s room one afternoon when Seoho and Keonhee weren’t there, under the pretenses of playing a new PlayStation game he’d just bought. They did play, and they ordered pizza, which helped calm down Hyungu’s nerves, but Harin quickly noticed that wasn’t all he came to do.

“You look like you really need to take a shit,” Harin said none too subtly. They didn’t pause the game, just kept shooting the zombies on their split-screen. Hyungu decided it would be best to just rip the band-aid.

“Have you ever, like, wondered what it would be like to kiss a guy?”

“I mean, honestly, when Dongmyeong first came out to us, and then Giwook and Dongju too, I was a little like, _why am I only surrounded by gay people_?” Harin said casually, eyes still glued to the game. “I wondered what it was like for them, what they could possibly see in guys that they couldn’t in girls. But I didn’t get. I wanted to puke imagining myself kissing another guy.”

“Okay, but like, don’t you think there are some people that just transcend the realm of sexuality?” Hyungu pushed. “Like, even if you didn’t like girls, you still wouldn’t mind kissing Hyejin from the Vocal department.”

“I mean, hell yeah I wouldn’t mind, but girls are girls, you can’t compare them to guys.”

Why did he expect anything more eloquent from Harin.

He returned his full attention to the game in front of him, because Harin left him in the dust while he spaced out, and he would never give him the satisfaction of winning. They stayed silent for a while, only muttering an occasional curse when another zombie popped out of nowhere, and Hyungu decided to just forget the conversation. It was too embarrassing, he shouldn’t have tried in the first place.

“If you’re questioning yourself,” Harin said suddenly. “There’s only one sure way to know.”

“I’m not kissing you.”

“Ew, no! Definitely not me. And I wasn’t thinking of kissing, if you get what I mean.”

Hyungu dropped his controller, and the zombie he had been up against drained out the last of his LP.

“Look, I’m just saying, the body doesn’t lie!” Harin defended himself when he saw Hyungu glaring at him in disgust. “Feelings are messed up, but physical reactions are pretty straightforward. It either gets you hard, or it doesn’t.”

Hyungu hated to admit that there was sense to Harin’s logic, however bluntly-worded, and what he hated even more was that he hadn’t thought of such a simple thing on his own. In his defense, the thought of having a crush on his best friend was scary enough on its own, so he hadn’t really had the time to go further than that, and also, he was never that sexual to begin with.

He knew he definitely wasn’t _a-_ sexual, it just wasn’t something he thought about much. He didn’t do one night stands, and in relationships, the romantic aspect of it was always much more important to him. But maybe it really was the only way to know for sure.

Hyungu felt fifteen again when he returned to his room that night and hid his laptop under the blanket. There was no real need to do that, since neither of his roommates were at home, but he still felt shame wash over him as he started typing into the search bar. The second he was bombarded with ads and thumbnails, he felt his stomach churning and wanted to close the tab, but he knew he had to do it. He clicked the first video that looked vanilla enough, put his earphones in, and watched.

There was a sense of relief when two minutes passed and Hyungu felt nothing. It wasn’t repulsive, but, as Harin had so wisely said – it either gets you hard, or it doesn’t. And so far, Hyungu felt like he was watching a laundry detergent commercial.

He still thought that, maybe, he should be a little more grossed out, but he could work with disinterest. The guys in the video were handsome, that much he could admit, and at that point they were really going at it. There was a sense of thrill to it, just because it was something he’d never done before, but still no “physical reaction” in sight. Choosing a _completely_ vanilla video might’ve been the wrong decision in hindsight, because Hyungu’s mind was starting to wander in boredom.

One of the actors looked a little bit like Yonghoon. Well, their faces were actually nothing alike, but he was tall and broad and they styled their hair a similar way, so it was enough to paint a picture for Hyungu. He watched the way he rolled his hips, the way his abs contracted with every thrust, and it was all very… _aesthetically_ pleasing, but Hyungu still wasn’t dying to be in his partner’s shoes.

But if he had Yonghoon’s face, Yonghoon’s scent, Yonghoon’s voice…

Oh. _Oh_.

That was definitely a physical reaction.

And all at once, Hyungu was too far gone. He slammed his laptop shut without even pausing the video and kicked it to the other end of his bed, and his thoughts started spiraling. Suddenly, Yonghoon was all around him, caging him in with his big, warm body, and it was overwhelming, but it wasn’t scary. It was _safe_ , as safe as simply hugging him over all their clothes, only it made Hyungu’s heart beat a million times faster.

Needless to say, he had the guiltiest, most confusing (but also one of the best) orgasms of his life that night, but it only left him feeling worse. He supposed he couldn’t call it confusing anymore, because it was now clear as day – Yonghoon wasn’t like his other friends. The mere thought of doing that with Giwook, or Geonhak, or literally anyone else, immediately made him want to puke, but apparently, Yonghoon was an exception to that rule. To make matters worse, he craved his closeness even more after he finished.

He was too tired that night to dwell on it, and when he woke up in the morning, he convinced himself it wasn’t real. It was just a weird dream. People had weird dreams about their friends all the time, right?

The thing was, Hyungu trusted himself to bury his feelings down until they disappeared. It’s what he did his entire life, and it had brought him far, so he didn’t feel the _need_ to tell Yonghoon about his little escapade. He knew it would go away, it always did. He had it under control.

But that night at the club, when he was arguably the drunkest he’d ever been, he didn’t have control over _anything_ for the first time in his life. He was reduced to a man that wanted Yonghoon. All he did was _want_ , want him in every single way, in his bed, in his arms, on his skin, everywhere at once. He wanted to finally allow himself to get completely lost in Yonghoon, and he realized he had wanted it for a long time. All those times he cried over an ex that didn’t really mean that much to him, he was just crying out for Yonghoon’s compliments, for his soft hands on his back telling him he was worthy of love. Because Yonghoon was the only, only person who ever made him feel something real.

The stranger whose shirt Giwook had soaked with tears had left, and the two of them went on an unsuccessful search for Geonhak. He wasn’t in the bathroom nor at the bar, and it was impossible to scan the entire crowd.

“Have you tried calling him?”

“He’s not going to hear his phone if he’s still at the club,” Hyungu said, but he took his phone out anyway. The lock screen immediately showed five waiting texts from Geonhak.

_wehere areee u guys_

_helloooooo_

_is gwwook with u_

_wth the fuck hyungu_

_whtever im going otuside to breathe_

Hyungu really needed to start thinking of the easiest solutions first.

They went to the entrance of the club and, true to his word, Geonhak was leaning against the wall, just staring off at nothing in particular. He cussed them out once he noticed them, but Hyungu was just glad they were all in one piece.

“Do you want to head home? Can you take care of Giwook?”

“Um, sure, but aren’t you going to come with us?” Geonhak raised an eyebrow.

“He’s gonna call Yonghoon-hyung to take him home,” Giwook supplied, though still not any soberer than Hyungu. “Let’s just go, at least one of us has a chance of getting a boyfriend.”

“I don’t want a –”

“ _Bye_ , hyung,” Giwook shouted as he walked away, and Geonhak rushed to get him before he tripped on something and fell on his face. Hyungu watched them as they swayed from side to side like newborn giraffes learning to walk, and he sighed with a mix of exhaustion, fondness, and utter disappointment in himself.

Giwook wasn’t wrong. All night, all he could think about was if it was late enough to go home with Yonghoon. Half past one was usually when he called, if it was at a big party full of people he didn’t know, because those tended to drain him quicker, but if it was mainly his friends, he’d stay until three or four. Yonghoon never complained about it.

Without checking the clock, he clicked on Yonghoon’s contact and the phone started ringing. Just like always, Yonghoon picked up before the second ring, and Hyungu’s heart warmed up at the familiarity of his voice.

“Did you get drunk again?”

“Mhm,” he hummed with a lazy smile on his face.

“Ah, what am I going to do with you…” Yonghoon sighed. “Whose room this time?”

“Club, actually.”

“You went to _the club_?” Yonghoon laughed. “Well, that can’t be good.”

“Just hurry up, hyung,” Hyungu whined. He knew he sounded ridiculously childish, hell, he almost sounded like Dongju when he wanted something from Geonhak, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Alright, alright, I’m on my way. Stay where you are, I’ll be there in twenty.”

Twenty minutes felt like hours waiting for Yonghoon. Feelings started taking shape in Hyungu’s mind – the yearning he felt even though Yonghoon was just twenty minutes away, the butterflies that came with knowing he was going to see him soon, the warmth that enveloped his entire body just by imagining Yonghoon’s oversized coat on him. All those months, he thought it was all sleepiness playing tricks on his mind, thought it was just him wanting to go home already.

Maybe he was dumber than all his friends, because he didn’t realize Yonghoon _was_ home.

There was nowhere to sit outside of the club, and he didn’t feel like making friends with a group of scary-looking, tattooed guys that went out for a smoke, so he hopped from foot to foot in an attempt to shake out some of his nervous energy. It felt like denying and repressing his feelings for so long only made them stronger, and now that he allowed them to live on the surface of his mind, they were uncontrollable and dangerous.

So he gave up on trying to tame them, just for one night, and after that he’d go back to what he knew. Yonghoon would graduate in four months, so they’d probably see each other less often, and as much as it broke Hyungu’s heart, maybe that was the only way for his love to fade. That’s what he decided on – letting it dim quietly, like a candle melting into a puddle of wax that once burned so brightly, and he would keep the memory close to his heart, so maybe one day he and Yonghoon could laugh about it together.

Or maybe not. It would inflate Yonghoon’s already giant ego to know he was the only man Hyungu ever questioned himself for. He’d never stop teasing him about it. But for some reason, the thought made Hyungu smile.

“Hyungu!” Yonghoon called out.

“Hyung, you’re here,” Hyungu ran towards him with a smile, ignoring Yonghoon’s pleas to be careful so he doesn’t trip. In a second, he was in Yonghoon’s arms, wrapped around those wide shoulders, melting into him completely as the elder gently rubbed his back.

He was overwhelmed. They were just hugging, they did it so many times, and yet Hyungu felt like all the love he had in his heart would spill through his shirt and onto Yonghoon’s, just because Yonghoon was holding him. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he buried his face in Yonghoon’s neck and didn’t let go, and Yonghoon understood.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered into his hair. “Hyung’s here now.”

“I love you,” Hyungu muttered.

“I know, I love you too.”

Hyungu shook his head, but the sobs still left in his throat didn’t let the words come out. Instead, he let Yonghoon go, only sniffling once or twice more until he got rid of unshed tears, and grabbed his hand so they could go home.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Yonghoon asked carefully while they were walking. “You sounded fine on the phone. You kind of sounded like Dongju.”

Hyungu chuckled at the way he’d thought the exact same thing. He remembered how somewhere along the way they had started saying the same things at the same time, how Yonghoon would send him the link to a song he was listening to and it would be the exact song Hyungu was already playing in that moment, how they flowed seamlessly into one another. How Yonghoon belonged in his heart more than anyone else.

“Did something bad happen? Did you see Eunhae again?”

“No, fuck her,” Hyungu shook his head and laughed again. He couldn’t believe Yonghoon was just as blind as he was, still fully convinced Hyungu’s ex wasn’t just a convenient excuse to stay close to him.

“That’s the spirit,” he saw a relieved smile on Yonghoon’s face. “You weren’t at the club by yourself, were you?”

“No, I came with Geonhak and Giwookie.”

“Now _that_ is a story I have to hear,” Yonghoon raised his brows. “Where are they?”

“They went home already, don’t worry.”

“Why didn’t you go with them? You live in the same room!”

“I wanted to go home with you,” Hyungu said quietly, squeezing Yonghoon’s hand a little tighter. “It’s kind of like “our thing”, you know?”

“I knew it, you’re just looking for excuses to hang out with me more,” Yonghoon gloated. “You know you could always call me to take a walk, like, during the day, right?”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

“So, how did the three biggest party-haters I know end up in a club on a Friday night?”

Hyungu started telling him about Geonhak’s and Giwook’s predicaments, how he found them drinking on the floor that afternoon, and how he was generous enough to offer his company because they were too drunk to go alone. Yonghoon vowed he would kill Dongmyeong for going on a date with someone else – well, not actually kill, he corrected himself, because Dongmyeong was his baby too, but he would be getting a very strict lecture on the dangers of dating non-Giwooks.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, and Hyungu realized he was trying to answer the wrong question all along. It didn’t matter whether or not he liked men, labeling his sexuality didn’t matter at all. The only thing that mattered was that he liked _Yonghoon_ , liked him so much that the word ‘like’ had gotten too tight on the skin of his feelings, and all those months of running away from it lead him into a dead-end street.

There was nothing timid about Hyungu’s need anymore, it had probably started quietly consuming him from the first night he met Yonghoon, and now it caught up with him. Making sense of it could wait for when his whole body wasn’t ablaze with desire, because in that moment, the only thing he wanted was to kiss Yonghoon. Just once, just to be able to say he’d experienced true love.

So he did. He stopped walking, making Yonghoon freeze as well, and leaned closer until he could feel Yonghoon’s heart beat against his own chest. He looked down at where their lips were just an inch away, but when he tried to bridge that gap, his lips pressed against a soft, warm hand instead.

“That’s enough, Hyungu-ya.”

“I’m so sorr –”

“Will you stop playing with my feelings already?”

Hyungu couldn’t look up from embarrassment, until he heard tears in Yonghoon’s voice.

“It’s enough,” Yonghoon said quietly, and there was a smile on his face as tears started slipping down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take it anymore.”

“What… what are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about?” Yonghoon chuckled, it’s what he always did when he was nervous. “Everything, everything that’s happened since you broke up with your girlfriend, how you literally spent _three days_ in my bed binging Hallmark movies and I skipped class just to take care of you. I come for you in the middle of the night, I listen to you talk about her even though it _kills me_ inside, and now this too? Am I really nothing but a replacement to you?”

“Don’t you know that I love you, Hyungu?”

Hyungu’s world went quiet. Those words sobered him up immediately, and no matter how many times he echoed them in his head, he still couldn’t understand. How could someone as perfect as Yonghoon love someone like him? How did he never see it, when Yonghoon always wore his heart on his sleeve?

All that time, he’d been too focused on making excuses for his own feelings to think about how it affected _Yonghoon_. He hurt him so much, and just so he wouldn’t have to admit to himself that he was in love with a man. There was no way to take that back now, but Hyungu wasn’t going to hurt Yonghoon again.

“I love you –”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Yonghoon cried before he could finish. “I’m in love with you, and I feel fucking awful about it. Because when you broke up with her, I should’ve been a good friend, I should’ve been sad because you were sad, but the first thing I thought was, _At least now he’ll need me again_. Because you only need me when you’re lonely or drunk, but for me, you’re my first choice. I always need you.”

“Please listen to me!” Hyungu shouted and grabbed Yonghoon’s wrist before he could run away. “I feel the same way. Break-ups, getting drunk, it was all an excuse, just because I’m a coward and couldn’t be honest with you. But, hyung, I don’t want to end up like Giwook, or Geonhak, I want to be honest with you now. Can you listen to what I have to say?”

“Don’t you think this is a little cruel?”

He knew it was hard for Yonghoon to trust him now. It took him months to understand it and believe it himself, so he didn’t expect his words to reach Yonghoon, but he had to try. Because if he lost him to a misunderstanding, he could never live with himself.

“Just listen before you judge, please,” Hyungu quietly commanded. “For a while now, I’ve been trying to figure out if this is really just friendship. I really don’t want to get into the details, but it’s not, it’s not just friendship to me. I didn’t try to kiss you because I was drunk, or because I miss anyone, I tried to kiss you because I wanted to. Because I’ve been thinking about it, way more than I should, and I’ve wanted it for a long time. It’s okay if you don’t want it too, but don’t tell me my feelings aren’t real. Because I love you so much.”

Yonghoon stared at him blankly. He wasn’t crying anymore, which was a start, but his lips were slightly parted in shock, attempts at words coming out of them in the shape of broken stutters. It was killing Hyungu to wait for his response, his heart beating a million miles an hour, but he gave him all the time he needed, until Yonghoon finally spoke.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he decided. “You’re just confused, they probably got into your head with all those jokes about how it would be easier if you were gay. But my feelings aren’t a joke. So please stop saying things you don’t mean.”

Hyungu didn’t know what to do anymore. He had no words to say that would convey his feelings properly, and he wanted to cry out of frustration, because for the first time, he couldn’t wait for it to pass. It hurt him that Yonghoon couldn’t see himself the way Hyungu saw him, and frankly, it angered him too that he gave himself the right to decide what Hyungu did and didn’t feel.

Yonghoon _had to_ know how much he loved him.

So he did the last thing he could do, he took Yonghoon’s face in his hands, and kissed him before he could stop him again. The second their lips touched, the last remaining shred of doubt vanished, and Hyungu knew he did the right thing.

He pressed his lips into Yonghoon’s unresponsive ones, just waiting to be pushed away, but that never happened. It took a few moments, but Yonghoon finally melted, parting his lips so Hyungu could kiss him for real. It made the younger’s heart soar – they fit so perfectly together, Yonghoon was so perfect, just as warm and soft and slow as Hyungu always thought he’d be.

He tasted like instant coffee, the cheap kind he only drank when he pulled all-nighters to study. He had different types of coffee for different emotional states, and Hyungu learned them all by heart, so that he could tell how Yonghoon was feeling just by taking a sip out of his favorite mug. He moved his hands from where they were cupping Yonghoon’s face, down his sharp jawline until they stopped at the back of his neck. Yonghoon, in turn, wrapped his arms around Hyungu’s waist, pulling him closer until their chests were touching.

It felt right. Like kissing Yonghoon was what he was supposed to be doing all along. Every movement was intentional, every breath Yonghoon breathed into his mouth was full of meaning. The slide became wetter when Yonghoon licked into his mouth, not minding the taste of soju or the embarrassing little sound Hyungu made. He couldn’t breathe anymore, all his air suddenly belonging to Yonghoon, but he didn’t want to pull away, he wanted to give him everything.

“Do you believe me now?” he panted when they broke away. The elder was just staring at him, a little dumbly, if he was being honest, but Hyungu felt like the happiest man on Earth now that he had kissed him.

“I know I’m dumb, I know my way of getting your attention was stupid and awful and I regret it so much, and yeah, I am confused about a lot of things right now. But this, this doesn’t confuse me at all. I just love you.”

“Is this real?” Yonghoon stuttered, touching all over Hyungu’s face to make sure he wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He couldn’t say anything much more eloquent than that, all his sense was kissed out of him, but Hyungu understood. He saw it in his eyes, a careful, bashful acceptance, like he still thought he wasn’t worthy of that love, but couldn’t refuse it because it was a gift from Hyungu.

“I don’t know either,” the younger admitted shyly. “Can we just go sleep now? Is it okay if we talk more in the morning?”

“Of course, of course, it’s pretty late anyway,” Yonghoon still couldn’t quite collect himself, and Hyungu would’ve found it adorable, but he was just as dazed. “Um. Let’s go to your room. Youngjo has been playing _Love of my Life_ for the past three hours.”

“Youngjo-hyung?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you in the morning.”

* * *

Keonhee and Hwanwoong were huddling together for warmth in the back of Keonhee’s second-hand Honda Civic, with an extra-large box of pizza balancing on their knees.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have asked for extra cheese,” Keonhee said as some cheese dripped into his lap while he was trying to take another piece out of the box.

“You’re gross,” Hwanwoong furrowed his brows as he watched Keonhee eat the cheese off his lap.

“I know you were worried about me, little man,” Keonhee teased him. “But I’m here now, so you can relax.”

In the middle of Hwanwoong’s crying session at home, he got a text from Keonhee saying to meet him at the campus parking lot in ten minutes. He washed his face and rushed out the door without even tying one of his shoes, because as needy and impulsive as Keonhee was, he’d never sent a simple “meet-me-in-ten” text without at least ten emojis to explain the purpose of the meeting.

It wasn’t a cold night, only slightly breezy, but Hwanwoong knew the moment he saw Keonhee that he needed someone to hold him, so that’s what he did. Subtly, as it always went with them, just a bump of the knees and interlaced arms (although it made it a lot harder to eat pizza), because god forbid anyone found out how much Hwanwoong loved his best friend.

But Keonhee knew, he knew, and it had been the only thing keeping him from falling apart in the past weeks.

When he was all alone, and he didn’t even have the strength to call Hwanwoong, just the thought of him being one call away was enough to calm him down. He knew Hwanwoong wouldn’t judge him. He knew he would understand. And yet, every time he dialed his number, he ended up deleting the digits one by one until the screen was empty again.

“You’ve been crying,” Hwanwoong said matter-of-factly, with a mouthful of pizza.

“You’ve been crying too.”

Then they started laughing at the messes they had become, devouring a greasy family-sized pizza like it was their last meal, while still sniffling in random intervals. But if there was anyone Keonhee could stand to fall apart with, it was Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong saw him in his sixth-grade Shrek costume and kept it as his lock screen for two years – it didn’t really get worse than that.

“You only cry when it’s about Youngjo-hyung.”

“Tonight isn’t about me,” Hwanwoong shook his head, but the sadness in his eyes only confirmed Keonhee’s words.

“Can you tell me anyway?” Keonhee started fidgeting again, like he did while he was waiting for Hwanwoong, because he wasn’t ready to talk about his problems yet. “Please.”

Hwanwoong took a deep breath. “I broke up with Youngjo-hyung.”

Keonhee froze. It felt like that sentence tore his entire world down, because Youngjo and Hwanwoong were a synonym for love to him. If they broke up, love definitely wasn’t real.

He was there for the whole journey, ever since he and Hwanwoong were fifteen and Hwanwoong started crushing on a popular upperclassman from their music club. Memories of high school started flooding in as he recalled all those late-night calls with Hwanwoong audibly kicking his feet on the bed all giddily whenever he spoke about Youngjo. It was funny to remember the awkward stage of their relationship, now that they were both adults and weren’t shy at all about making out in public, as opposed to those two scrawny highschoolers who couldn’t even make eye contact.

“You and Youngjo-hyung?! No way.”

“Yes way, apparently.”

Keonhee quickly came to his senses. Hwanwoong and him were both a little over-dramatic, the only difference was, Hwanwoong was always dramatic in a pessimistic way, whereas Keonhee was a hopeless, unapologetic optimist. He remembered how Youngjo texted him early that morning, with a photo of a sulky Hwanwoong sitting in a coffee shop and frowning at his phone. _“Someone misses you,”_ the text read. Then he sent a puppy-faced selfie of his own, adding _“two someones”_. That was what gave him the courage to call Hwanwoong in the first place.

He refused to believe love wasn’t real.

“But everything was fine this morning…”

“Yeah, this morning when I didn’t know he planned on moving to another country without me.”

Keonhee listened quietly as Hwanwoong told him all about the letter he’d found in Youngjo’s drawer that day, and yes, he was aware that it was wrong to snoop in the first place, but he still couldn’t understand how the person closest to him could keep such an important thing from him. Keonhee felt guilty at those words, because he, too, had been keeping a secret from Hwanwoong, so he wondered if it was even the right time to tell him, now that one person he loved had already betrayed his trust.

“To be fair, you didn’t really give him a chance to explain himself,” Keonhee said after Hwanwoong finished talking. “You _know_ Youngjo-hyung loves you more than anything in this world. I can’t see why, but he does. And you always assume the worst. How on _Earth_ did you come to the conclusion that he was going to pack his suitcases and disappear without a trace?”

“I don’t know, maybe, maybe…” Hwanwoong picked at the loose thread on his sleeve. “Maybe he just realized I’m not the person he should spend the rest of his life with. Maybe he realized he wants more than a 5’6 “dancer” who can’t even cook. He’s bisexual, you know, maybe he wants to –”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there, I can’t listen to this bullshit anymore,” Keonhee interrupted him. “I’m telling you, there’s no way you broke up. Youngjo-hyung would never let you break up with him. You’re _soulmates_ , you’re going to be like those cute little grandpas that still hold hands when they’re ninety. You were made from the same star, lovers through all your past lives, connected by the red string of –”

“Okay, okay, I got it,” Hwanwoong laughed, but the laughter faded with every syllable. “But is that all there is to me?”

And then Keonhee realized what was actually bothering his friend. They felt the same way, both lost in a search for their own identity unrelated to other people. When they spent pretty much all their time in a large friend group, it was easy to forget who they were when they were alone. Keonhee was an extrovert, constantly surrounded by unfamiliar faces, soaking in all their stories and feelings like a sponge, and over time, their expectations of him bled into what he saw in the mirror, until he couldn’t differentiate the two anymore.

Hwanwoong, on the other hand, was always much more independent. It’s not that he put up a front – he truly never needed anyone’s validation, not even Youngjo’s. Whichever complex he had, like his height or the fear that he’d never look as powerful as bigger dancers, he compensated for with hard work, until he turned all his weaknesses into strengths. Keonhee had always admired his self-awareness and the ability to build confidence even though he wasn’t naturally born with it, but it turned out that even the strongest people had voices in the back of their heads.

He realized how much Hwanwoong inspired him all throughout their teenage years, how he was always a symbol of strength to him, and it broke his heart to see him so small and insecure again, like he hadn’t seen him since middle school.

“Of course not,” he finally spoke. “You’re Yeo Hwanwoong. You’re _that bitch_. The only 5’6 guy who can make men twice your height shit their pants with just one glance. The best dancer I know. You’re a grumpy, petty, sneaky little bitch, and you’re my best friend.”

He didn’t have to look at Hwanwoong to know that he was crying, and usually the tiny sobs breaking from Hwanwoong’s chest would be enough to make him cry too, but for once, he wanted to be Hwanwoong’s strength.

“Everyone knows that. Youngjo-hyung knows it best of all. No one thinks of you as just ‘Youngjo’s boyfriend’.”

“Sometimes, you’re really cute for an off-brand Slenderman,” Hwanwoong giggled through the last of his tears, fanning his face to stop them from returning. “Okay, okay, I’m going to stop being dramatic now. I’m good, I’m good.”

“And you’re going to talk things out with Youngjo-hyung for me?”

“When I’m ready,” Hwanwoong hesitated. “But I will. Of course.”

“Good.”

“Now, spill,” Hwanwoong quickly did a complete one-eighty. “Why were _you_ crying?”

Uh-oh. There it goes.

Keonhee had spent many days and nights jumbling the words around his brain, trying to make sense of them for when he needs to finally get them out in the open. Because he knew that day would come, sooner rather than later, and he knew he’d have a lot of explaining to do.

Words were always his weapons. Ever since he was a child, his family and friends would joke that it was the reason his mouth was so big – he was always chatty, always full of things to say, be it his own outrageous theory on the purpose of human life or interesting shark facts, and he was good with words. He rarely felt like he wasn’t able to reach people, like he was misunderstood, but lately, that was the only thing he’d been feeling. Lost in translation.

So he tried again to recall the script he’d written in his head in the ten minutes it took Hwanwoong to put his shoes on and come to the parking lot, but every single word of his mother tongue had vanished with that one simple question. Why _was_ he crying?

“So, the day I disappeared…” he started slowly. “I told you I went on a date, slept over at the guy’s place, and then I accidentally slept through all my classes the next day.”

“But that was a lie.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Keonhee laughed nervously. “I did go on a date, though, and he did invite me over.”

“Did it not go well?”

Keonhee took a deep breath. “I refused to sleep with him. He got really angry, and then he said: _Aren’t you supposed to be the campus slut? I bought you a drink and all, you know, I deserve it._ ”

He could practically see the rage vibrating from his best friend. “Who is this? I’m going to cut his dick off and feed it to him Keonhee, I’m going to end him and spend the rest of my life in jail, who is he?”

“Slow down, tiger, you wouldn’t survive a day in jail,” Keonhee laughed. “Anyway, I couldn’t go home after that. I don’t know why, it just broke something in me, and I had to get away from everything, even for just one night. I spent the entire night walking around the city, and in the morning I sat by the Han river and ate chicken. And I didn’t end up having any kind of epiphany. I still thought I could do it, if I tried hard enough.”

“Do what?”

“Have sex.”

Hwanwoong couldn’t understand what Keonhee was trying to say, but he let him continue. “So last night, I found this super hot guy on Grindr. Super, super hot. Undercut, piercings, six-pack, even a little taller than me.”

“I’m sensing a _but_.”

“But… I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.”

“Okay, so? You just weren’t in the mood for it.”

“No, Woong, I’m _never_ in the mood for it,” Keonhee’s eyes got glassy, and he finally broke down.

Hwanwoong took a tissue as he waited for Keonhee to stop shaking. So much for being strong, Keonhee thought to himself. But he’d gone past the point of no return. It was his first time talking about the thing that had plagued him for months, and although being vulnerable was always scary, he didn’t think it would affect him that much. Instead of pushing it down, he waited for his tears to stop on their own, and when they did, he felt a new energy to continue.

“Don’t get snot on your pizza, you gross man-baby,” Hwanwoong scolded as he wiped his nose for him.

He knew Hwanwoong was confused. The Keonhee that was sitting next to him now, crying into the cheese on his pizza, was so different from the Keonhee he knew, or at least thought he knew. In high school, Keonhee always had a crush on someone. It was like he didn’t know how to be alone, but couldn’t hold down a relationship either, so he ended up flying from one love interest to another like an optimistic little bee.

He always wanted to know everything about Hwanwoong’s crush and later relationship with Youngjo, he was probably even more excited than Hwanwoong himself when Youngjo first asked him out. In the end, he concluded he was probably in love with the very concept of love, not the people themselves.

“Whenever I “go home” with someone, I just pretend to be too drunk and fall asleep the second we reach the bed,” Keonhee finally continued. “And I guess no one ever told on me because, well, it did make them a little cooler too to say they’ve slept with me.”

“So, you’re… a virgin?”

“As pure and untouched as the first December snow,” he said dramatically. “I mean, I did help others get off, but it was always like, okay, cool, I guess we’re doing this. Kind of automatic, I just go on autopilot and think about what I want to eat for breakfast tomorrow. It didn't make me feel anything.”

It took Hwanwoong some time to process it, and Keonhee was aware he’d dumped too much information on him out of nowhere, but he could see his best friend putting genuine effort into thinking about what he should and shouldn’t ask next. There wasn’t a hint of judgment or disbelief in his voice, although Keonhee knew it must’ve been a shock given his made-up track record, so he really appreciated that Hwanwoong didn’t make any comments of his own before listening to the whole story. He knew he’d be the best person to come out to.

“That guy tonight, you tried to go further with him?”

“Yeah, I…” Keonhee stammered. “I really liked kissing him. He was really gentle and I’m telling you, the hottest man I’ve ever seen, like, Cha Eunwoo-level hot, so I thought, every normal person would die to have sex with him. If it was going to happen with anyone, it was going to be him. But I had to start crying like a little bitch the second he touched my zipper, so yeah, I guess not.”

“Was he at least nice about it? Or do I need to serve two life sentences?” Hwanwoong furrowed his brows again, just in case.

“Yeah, don’t worry, he was super understanding,” Keonhee smiled. “He even offered to drive me home.”

“Good,” Hwanwoong nodded. “So, do you think you might be asexual?”

“That’s probably what it is,” Keonhee admitted. “But I still like people, you know? I wasn’t faking that part. I want to hold hands and be sickeningly domestic like you and Youngjo-hyung. But I guess that’s not happening.”

“No, you can still like people without wanting to sleep with them,” Hwanwoong explained. “Romantic and sexual attraction are completely different things.”

“And who’s going to believe me, with my “reputation”?” Keonhee chuckled bitterly. “Who’s going to settle for that?”

Before saying anything, Hwanwoong made sure to smack him on the head as hard as he could. Keonhee was pretty sure he had a concussion, because Hwanwoong hit damn hard for such a small man.

“Don’t you dare say that ever again. You have the best ass a skinny guy could possibly have, you sing better than half the professional singers out there, do I need to go on? You can even play the kazoo! Who _doesn’t_ want a man who can play the kazoo?”

“I love you, Woongie,” Keonhee laughed, squeezing Hwanwoong to his side.

“Yeah, yeah, love you too, beanpole,” Hwanwoong muttered as he melted into Keonhee’s embrace.

When he realized he was asexual, Keonhee’s biggest fear wasn’t what other people would say. It was a close second, and he still had a lot of work to do, but it’s not what made his blood freeze and made him shut everyone out. It was the thought of being unlovable.

He _loved_ dating. The thought of going on first dates, exploring cute little coffee shops with someone, going to flower shops and picking out the prettiest flowers for them, it all excited him to no ends. The only person more romantic than him was probably Youngjo, but that was because he had a specific object of affection to project all those fantasies onto. For Keonhee, it was whoever he liked at the moment – they were always The One, even if they’d known each other for less than a week, and he liked to go all-out from the start, because he had many dream dates in his head that needed to be realized.

The very concept of romance gave him butterflies, because how pure was it to love another person wholly and fully, not to satisfy a need or gain anything, but just because your heart said so? Love was all Keonhee could think about, be it his love for singing, his friends, his sister, dogs – Keonhee simply loved everything, and most of the time, he felt like the world loved him too.

But then he found out there was this one crucial type of love he simply couldn’t give anyone, and he wondered if anyone would ever accept a love that’s not complete.

But talking to Hwanwoong, he realized that he _was_ loveable. Hwanwoong still loved him for who he was, he didn’t talk to him any differently, and he obviously thought his kazoo skills were enough to compensate for everything he was lacking. He knew the voices in his head telling him he was unworthy wouldn’t give up so quickly, but he felt at ease. If Hwanwoong could accept him, he could accept himself too.

“Do you want to talk more about it?” Hwanwoong asked. “Like, when did you start thinking about all this? How long were you keeping it from us?”

“Since we started college, probably,” Keonhee admitted.

“That was _two years_ ago!”

“Yeah, I know,” he stared down at his knees. “I mean, in high school, people were talking about it, but there wasn’t so much pressure. I could still just tell myself I’m a “late bloomer”. But in college, especially when I met Seoho and Harin and they always brought girls over, I felt like I should be more like them. It sounded fun when they talked about it.”

“Yeah, sounds like you,” Hwanwoong laughed. “Always trying to fit in.”

“Shut up,” Keonhee threatened him with a piece of pepperoni from his pizza. “It’s not like they pressured me, or anything. But we have categories, you know. You and Youngjo, I don’t need to mention, then Dongmyeong and Giwook came, Hyungu went on dates, Dongju was, let’s be honest, a bit of a slut before he met Geonhak, hell, even Yonghoon-hyung used to date before he became a boring old man! So I thought, if I wasn’t going to find something long-term like you, I should fall into the second category. I couldn’t, you know, not have a love life at all.”

“No, I get that,” Hwanwoong nodded. “You’re already ugly enough, you can’t afford to wait until you’re old and wrinkly too.”

“Yeah, anyway,” Keonhee rolled his eyes. “I started out thinking I could just go on dates, but it turned out people always wanted more, some sooner, some later. So if I liked them, I distracted them with third base for as long as I could until… until they inevitably figured out there was something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Keonhee,” Hwanwoong frowned at him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that now,” he reassured him. “That’s just how I used to think back then. Remember that guy I really liked, the foreign dude? I told him I had a really nasty rash all over my legs and couldn’t take my jeans off because it was contagious.”

“Oh my god, so he _didn’t_ go back to Canada?”

“No, he broke up with me because of my “rash”,” Keonhee laughed. It had been heartbreaking at the time, but he could laugh about it now.

“You know, if you were honest with people, I’m sure you would’ve found someone who understands,” Hwanwoong said. “I mean, I’m sure you _will_ find someone. For most people, love is much more important than sex.”

“Yeah, but it’s still a big thing. A big compromise.”

“Every relationship requires compromise. Believe me, people compromise on much bigger things. Like, letting their boyfriend live in Japan,” Hwanwoong chuckled dryly. “So you forced yourself for two whole years?”

Keonhee just smiled guiltily, and Hwanwoong smacked him on the head. “You’re not going to do that anymore, right?”

“No, I’ve definitely decided to stop,” Keonhee resolved. “I’ve had enough, I can’t keep pretending for the rest of my life.”

“But, um, when the rest of us talk about sexual things, does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No, not at all!” Keonhee assured him. “It’s just not very interesting to me, but as long as no one talks about _me_ in that context, I really don’t mind listening about your size kink.”

“Shut up, I mentioned it _once_!” Hwanwoong covered his reddening face.

They shared the last two slices of their pizza in silence, both already full to the point of bursting, but unable to control themselves in front of the heavenly four-cheese and pepperoni pizza. It had been a long night, probably the most emotionally draining night of Keonhee’s life, but his heart felt lighter than ever. Now that Hwanwoong had welcomed the “new” him with open arms, with nothing but good-natured questions to assure he felt accepted and comfortable, coming out to other people felt a lot less burdening. He knew that not everyone would be as amazing as Hwanwoong, either out of malice or just clumsy ignorance, but he decided it was time to start being patient with himself.

“Does anyone else know?”

“Not yet,” Keonhee admitted, despite the proud grin that he knew would immediately appear on Hwanwoong’s face. “I’m going to wait a little bit before I tell everyone.”

“Of course, take your time,” Hwanwoong cleaned his hands from cheese grease with a napkin and threw it into the empty pizza box. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you, Woongie,” Keonhee said sincerely, but Hwanwoong wouldn’t let him hug him until got rid of the pizza crumbs on his shirt. It didn’t matter, because he knew Hwanwoong loved him too.

Whatever tomorrow brought, Hwanwoong would be there to weather it with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a reminder that platonic love is so important and asexuality is so valid!!  
> yonghoon and kanghyun hijacked this fic they are now writing it and stealing everyone else's cameos i'm sorry


	5. Mornings with You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some fluff as an apology for the last few chapters! it's all fluff from here <3 (and yes, this whole chapter is just an excuse to talk about hyungu's hands)

Yonghoon woke up to the scent of vanilla beans.

It was all around him, in the air, in the sheets, in the warm body sleeping next to him. It was a scent he could recognize as Hyungu’s without opening his eyes, so he kept them closed for a little longer, in fear that it would disappear when he opened them. His left arm was numb under Hyungu’s side, and it brought back memories of last night, how they fell asleep completely intertwined, with Yonghoon hugging Hyungu’s waist and Hyungu’s arms holding him tightly by the shoulders. During the night, their legs tangled together too.

It took Yonghoon some time to fall asleep like that, mostly because his heart was still beating out of his chest with how close Hyungu’s face was to his, but Hyungu, on the other hand, was drunk enough not to mind the uncomfortable position and knocked out right away. When he did fall asleep, though, it was the best sleep of Yonghoon’s life. Dreamless, uninterrupted, and even though his brain was programmed to wake up early, he still felt more rested than ever, as if he got fifteen hours of sleep and not five.

He finally willed himself to open his eyes, slowly at first, and Hyungu was really there. His once purple hair that had faded to a soft lilac was tickling Yonghoon’s nose, his breath caressed Yonghoon’s jaw, and his arms still held him just as close as they had when they fell asleep.

Yonghoon remembered how they struggled not to wake up Hyungu’s roommates, how they took the first two sets of sleeping clothes they could find in Hyungu’s closet in complete dark and changed with their backs turned to each other, throwing their own clothes on the same pile on the floor. Hyungu’s shorts were a little tight on Yonghoon, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable, and thankfully, Hyungu always bought his shirts a size too big. Without a word, they settled into Hyungu’s single bed that was far too small for two grown men, so there was really no choice but to press as close to each other as they could.

As he started recalling everything that had happened before that, he felt the smaller boy stir in his arms, all tiny movements like a caterpillar preparing to shed its cocoon. Hyungu’s let out a few little groans as a warning, and Yonghoon found it incredibly endearing how long it always took him to fully wake up. To help him, he left one chaste kiss on his forehead.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Hyung,” the younger mumbled, only cuddling closer to Yonghoon. He decided to finally open his eyes, but not without frowning at the sunlight that had dared interrupt his sleep.

“Where are Giwookie and Geonhak?” Hyungu’s voice was raspy and so, so hot to Yonghoon.

Yonghoon turned his head around to check, but both their beds were empty, and they would’ve definitely heard them in such a small room. “I don’t know, looks like they left.”

“We always leave each other notes,” Hyungu said, but didn’t bother to move his head from where it was lying snuggly on Yonghoon’s chest. The elder took it as a sign to check Hyungu’s bedside table, and there was, indeed, a note. He laughed before reading it out loud.

“ _I dOn’T LiKe YoNgHoOn-HyUnG. Fuck you, Hyungu. Fuck you.”_ Both Geonhak and Giwook signed the message, without further explaining their whereabouts.

Hyungu just rolled his eyes and called his roommates bitter, and the paper was returned to the night stand. It looked like he was torn between going back to sleep and waking up properly, and in the end chose the latter with a heavy sigh. He retracted his arms from Yonghoon’s shoulders, the newly opened space between them immediately making Yonghoon panic, but then Hyungu put both his hands on his face and held his cheeks with the gentleness that made Yonghoon’s heart swell.

What softness Hyungu’s hands lacked in texture, they made up for in movement. They were the only rough part of him, worn down by a whole decade of music, but Yonghoon didn’t mind the callouses against his cheek. They were little footprints of Hyungu’s journey to that moment, to that bed, to Yonghoon. They were proof that the universe crafted their meeting, their love, for years and years, ever since the first time Hyungu picked up the guitar and Yonghoon sang with his father a song on the radio.

Hyungu’s hands, so skilled with the guitar, yet so clumsy on Yonghoon’s skin. Fearful, almost, like a kid in the museum touching an artwork he wasn’t supposed to touch. They trembled, they hesitated, but in the end, they made it to the tip of Yonghoon’s chin, and Yonghoon’s eyes followed. They painted his jaw with affection, and Yonghoon doubted he’d ever stop feeling their ghosts on his skin.

And at the end of their reverent journey, they found home in Yonghoon’s hands. A little bigger, a little smoother, but they were a perfect place to rest. Yonghoon didn’t know how much he was allowed, but Hyungu’s hands stopped trembling when he held them.

“Did last night really happen? Was it just a dream?”

“It happened. I think,” Hyungu answered shyly.

Yonghoon didn’t want to ruin their perfect moment with questions. There were many, no doubt about that, and that made it all the harder to find the beginning of a thread to hold onto. He knew the conversation wasn’t going to be smooth, but it was what he had to do in order to be with Hyungu, in whichever way that may be. Hyungu had been brave for him last night, so now was Yonghoon’s turn to be brave.

“So… how are you feeling? Do you still mean what you said?”

“Of course I do, I don’t just change my mind over night.”

The elder was relieved to hear that, but it brought a hundred new anxieties. What next? What if Hyungu loved him, but still didn’t want to actually date him? What if he did, but then realized it felt wrong and gross and broke up with him? He simply didn’t know where to begin, because last night had taken him by storm and he was still a little dizzy from it. He didn’t want to hear anything that could break his little heaven, he wasn’t ready for it.

“I can see you overthinking from over here,” Hyungu glared at him. “Whatever it is, say it.”

“I never knew you were so blunt,” Yonghoon laughed, just to ease the tension in his own shoulders.

“Well, I’m not, but I’ve been circling around you for too long, so I have to be blunt now,” Hyungu shrugged. He looked like an angel, cheek resting on his own forearm as he carefully watched for every twitch in Yonghoon’s face. Those big, warm eyes weren’t judging him, they were just looking, a mix of curiosity and adoration hidden somewhere in their depths.

“There’s just… a lot to talk about,” Yonghoon sighed. “Like, I still can’t wrap my head around it. You’ve never liked men before, and now…”

“Stop it,” Hyungu’s voice deepened, and Yonghoon recognized it to be one of his early signs of anger. “You did this yesterday too. I get that you’re surprised, but can you stop deciding how I feel? Am I not allowed to change?”

“God, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Yonghoon scrambled to fix his mistake. “I just mean, how did you even realize that… that you liked me?”

Hyungu hesitated for a second. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

Yonghoon promised three times, but Hyungu wouldn’t believe him until he offered his pinky to add weight to the vow. Then he told him that he first started thinking about it after Giwook’s call-out, and then about Harin’s unhelpful but actually helpful advice, and although Yonghoon wished it was a little more romantic, the mental image of Hyungu touching himself to the thoughts of him made his face overheat.

“Then… do you think you could be bi?”

“I don’t know…” Hyungu said honestly. “I’m kind of holding off that thought for now. Not that I have anything against being bi, I mean, obviously, but I just… I just don’t _know_.”

“No, that’s totally fine, you don’t even have to have a label if that’s what works for you.”

“I kind of want one, though…” Hyungu said quietly into his blanket. “Is that weird? I just don’t like uncertainty. I don’t want to have to _describe_ my sexuality to people, I just want it to be simple.”

“Those things are rarely simple,” Yonghoon smiled as he softly brushed a stray strand of hair from Hyungu’s forehead. “I just want you to be patient with yourself. You don’t owe anyone anything, so don’t force yourself to identify as anything that doesn’t feel right just to make other people comfortable.”

Hyungu felt his chest constricting again, because Yonghoon was so understanding, so patient with him, so safe and kind and perfect. He wanted to kiss him, but he was too shy now that he was sober, and they hadn’t even brushed their teeth yet, so he settled for a kiss on the cheek.

It took Yonghoon some time to recover from that.

“I mean, of course, your label is for you to decide, but from what you described, it sounds like you could be demisexual.”

“What’s that?” Hyungu’s head perked up in interest.

“I read about it online when a friend from high school told me she was asexual,” Yonghoon started clumsily, and Hyungu couldn’t help but smile, because it was so like Yonghoon to do _reading_ in order to support his friends better. “Basically, you only feel sexual attraction when you form a deep emotional connection with someone?”

“Isn’t that just… how it works for everyone?”

“Do you think Harin has a “deep emotional connection” with all his Tinder dates?” Yonghoon cocked an eyebrow. He was right.

Hyungu took some time to think about it. All his life he thought he just had a low libido, and the girls he dated thought it was very sweet and gentlemanly of him to wait a few months into the relationship to have sex. Many of his relationships had gone by without ever reaching that stage, but Hyungu never felt like he was counting down the days to a pre-determined date or restraining himself for someone else’s sake. It made a lot of sense, but he’d have to sit on it for a while.

“So it’s like, close to asexuality?”

“It can be on that spectrum, yeah, but I think it all depends on the person,” Yonghoon explained, carefully choosing his words. “For example, my friend said she was completely repulsed by sex, but for you, obviously, that’s not the case, so I guess it’s different.”

“Want to read about it with me?” he asked shyly.

“Of course, baby,” Yonghoon’s whole face melted into a smile as he brought Hyungu closer and kissed his forehead.

Yonghoon could see Hyungu didn’t want to add anything to the topic, so he let him rest for a while. He could only imagine how hard it was for Hyungu to say all those things for the first time, and how scared he must’ve been of all those changes, but the only thing he could do was hold his hand through it and be patient. They just enjoyed each other’s presence, their hearts evened out so they could beat in sync, and Yonghoon never thought peace could be something so overpowering.

“So… where does that leave us?”

“I want to be with you, hyung,” Hyungu said in a heartbeat. “I, I don’t know exactly how to date a guy, and I might not be able to do everything right away, like, sex and stuff, but I want to be with you.”

 _I want to be with you. I want to be with you. I want to be with you._ The words echoed through Yonghoon’s head, mind spinning with pure _happiness_ , because even if all else was unclear, he and Hyungu wanted the same thing. They wanted to be together, they _would_ be together, and Hyungu was no longer an illusion he could break with one confession, not a cloud of smoke that could dissolve after graduation or when he finds someone else. He was permanent, a promise, more human than Yonghoon had ever seen him, and he tried to communicate all that with a smile, but he probably just looked like a lovesick fool to Hyungu.

“Don’t worry, it really isn’t all that different,” Yonghoon assured him. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured. If you never want to sleep with me, that’s fine. If we try and you don’t like it, that’s fine too. If you don’t want to call me your boyfriend right away, I’m fine with that.”

“Of course I want to call you my boyfriend,” Hyungu frowned. “That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

Yonghoon tried his best to control himself, but he just couldn’t hold back his smile when Hyungu said the word _‘boyfriend’._ It was just a word, one he’d been called before, but it never meant as much as it did coming from Hyungu’s mouth. Hyungu, who was reserved even when it came to friendly displays of affection, was now so open with his feelings, only for him. His cheeks still blushed and his voice still thinned out at the end of the sentence, but to Yonghoon, it meant more than any grand gesture or loud proclamation.

“He-he, boyfriend,” Yonghoon giggled. “Or maybe… _lover_. ‘Lover’ sounds sexier, doesn’t it?”

“Please shut up, you just ruined it,” Hyungu rolled his eyes. “Whatever you want to call yourself, I just love you.”

“I just love you too,” Yonghoon smiled against Hyungu’s forehead, because wow, they already had their little special way to say ‘I love you’. Hyungu was real in his arms and so, so devastatingly warm and Yonghoon was allowed to hug him as tight and as long as he liked. He was allowed to kiss his face whenever he wanted to, he was allowed to call him his _boyfriend_ , and there was no more guilt to it, no more alarm sounds interrupting the dream, it was simply his life now. It would take some getting used to, and no matter how many times Hyungu reassured him it was real, he was still afraid he would wake up at any moment.

Because Hyungu was just so perfect. Because he was the embodiment of all Yonghoon’s dreams, a love made just for him. Hyungu just loved him, and as long as that was true, Yonghoon knew everything else would fall into place.

“Want me to make you breakfast?”

“No thanks, I don’t want to die of food poisoning.”

“Come on, how hard can some scrambled eggs be?” Yonghoon said confidently. Very hard, it proved, as they worked together to scrape the burned eggs off of Hyungu’s only frying pan. Yonghoon argued that it had nothing to do with his cooking skills, it was entirely Hyungu’s fault for distracting him with kisses.

They settled on instant coffee and toast with jam – Yonghoon, ever the perfect gentleman, still insisted on being the one to put the toast in the toaster and spread the jam, and he counted it as a culinary success. Their legs brushed together under the small kitchen table, and Hyungu didn’t shy away from the touch. It was a convenient position for kicking Yonghoon in the shin every time he made a dad joke or said something that made Hyungu blush.

Yonghoon knew it was too early, but he wanted to spend many mornings like that with Hyungu. He put him at ease, his presence making every silence warmer and softer in Yonghoon’s ears. Then and there, basking in the pure bliss that was morning with Hyungu, Yonghoon vowed to make the whole world just a quiet corner where Hyungu could read.

* * *

Hwanwoong always thought that missing living people was dumb. You knew you’d see them again eventually, and even if you’d cut ties, you could always reach out. He was a rational person, gifted with a great ability to simplify problems and look at them from the most objective angle. So in his eyes, missing someone was merely a step over pride that the person didn’t want to take.

But that week, he discovered “missing” had nothing to do with time spent apart. Time changed shape when you missed someone. It wasn’t that people didn’t like being alone, it was that love was greedy and always demanded more from lovers. It wanted them to _need_ each other, like sharks needed to swim in order to breathe, it wanted them addicted to the warmth of each other’s bodies, until even the sunlight made them shiver if not poured straight from their loved one’s skin.

Hwanwoong was independent. He knew very well he wasn’t “missing” anything, yet there was an itch under his skin that wouldn’t go away, setting his nerves on fire every time someone mentioned _his_ name, grasping at straws like the hole of Youngjo absence would spread through his entire body and eventually swallow him whole.

It had been a week since he last spoke to Youngjo. They’d never went that long without talking. Youngjo tried to reach out, the first three days, but Hwanwoong read all his messages and immediately deleted them so he wouldn’t be compelled to scroll through them again at night, when his roommates couldn’t see him cry.

He just wanted to know if Youngjo was alright, if he was eating all his meals and coming home from the studio on time, but he’d shut himself off from all their mutual friends. Hwanwoong only confided in Keonhee, and later the twins, because it was impossible to hide anything from the twins. The three of them started having movie nights every night, where whoever had had the worst day was sandwiched between the other two, and they probably drank too often for it to be healthy, but it was the only thing keeping Hwanwoong sane during that week.

He was thankful to his friends for everything, but as much as he loved them, there was a distinct emptiness in his life that only Youngjo could fill. When Youngjo stopped texting him, he started panicking – what if it was really the end? He didn’t want to believe it back when it all went down, but as his days passed in radio silence, it felt more and more like he’d never see Youngjo again. Hwanwoong couldn’t live with that, he knew he had to do something, even if only to say a proper goodbye, but it was the fear of the next time being the last that was stopping him from reaching out. It was easier to live in a limbo, hoping the pain would get bored of them and leave on its own, than to lock those doors behind.

But Hwanwoong was an adult, and he knew very well that things never just disappeared. He knew that, if he wanted Youngjo back, he’d have to tell him about the most painful things, his insecurities, his deepest fears that caused him to lash out like he did. He just didn’t know how to do that without damaging their relationship forever.

After seven days of sleep deprivation, binge drinking, platonic cuddling and overanalyzing every single word he’d ever said to Youngjo, Keonhee invited him to go to a bar together. Hwanwoong fought against it at first, still unsure if he was in the right state to be seen by the general public, but Keonhee was persuasive. Which was just a fancy word he liked to use whenever someone called him out on his stubborn whining and emotional blackmail.

Hwanwoong supposed one night out couldn’t hurt. Keonhee promised to pay, which was a very rare occurrence, and he also promised the bar was quiet and barely had any visitors, so they’d just talk over a couple of fruity cocktails and go home before midnight. Still, after a week of only showering when his roommates told him he stinks, Hwanwoong felt the need to dress up a little bit, just to convince himself he wasn’t _that much_ of a wreck.

He arrived to the location at nine p.m. sharp, but Keonhee, in typical Keonhee fashion, was late. He watched the crowd for a while, stirring the ice in his mai tai with a straw, and it wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. As promised, the few guests that were there were too immersed in their own conversations to pay attention to him, the music was soft and nostalgic, and the lights were just dim enough to hide the dark circles his concealer couldn’t.

“Hello, beautiful.”

Hwanwoong hadn’t even noticed someone had come to his table, but he recognized that voice right away.

“Young –”

“You come here often?” Youngjo cut him off, the smile on his face somehow both nervous and confident at the same time.

Youngjo looked… amazing. Hwanwoong knew he never went out of the house looking anything less than amazing, but he only dressed so formally once or twice a year, when they decided to treat themselves to a dinner date at a fancy restaurant for some special occasion or another. He was wearing a black silk shirt with a matching blazer and pants, and even a necktie. But underneath all that, he was just his Youngjo, still the clumsy, cheesy music nerd he fell in love with.

“No, actually, this is my first time,” Hwanwoong played along with the bizarre act he was putting on, and he had to admit, it was fun.

“Thought so, I’d definitely remember such a pretty face,” Youngjo said, and it sounded so cringy that Hwanwoong was glad he met him in high school when he was still an adorable ball of nerves. “Must be destiny then, because this is my first time too. I actually only came because my friend Keonhee told me I would find the love of my life here tonight.”

Ah. Hwanwoong should’ve seen that coming when Keonhee offered to pay.

“Is your friend psychic or something?”

“I’d say he is,” Youngjo smirked. “But I’m afraid I don’t know your name yet.”

“It’s Hwanwoong.”

“I’m Youngjo,” Youngjo shook his hand cordially. “Well, Hwanwoong, I’d love to stay here and chat, but I’m afraid I’m starving. Do you perhaps fancy haute cuisine?”

Hwanwoong had no idea what Youngjo’s plan was, but that’s what made it so exciting. He accepted the offer to go someplace else, since he hadn’t had a non-delivery meal in a while, and Youngjo called the bartender and paid for Hwanwoong’s drink.

During their twenty-minute walk, Youngjo refused to tell him where they were going. It was a little quieter than usual, but it wasn’t bad. The whole game Youngjo was playing made Hwanwoong a little less nervous than he’d be if he had to go through “we need to talk” texts and awkward sit-downs at a coffee shop, so he was thankful he had a boyfriend who always went that extra mile for him. Even though nothing was solved yet, just having Youngjo by his side put his yearning heart at ease.

He knew Youngjo would make everything alright. He was his hero, after all.

“Oh my god. McDonald’s,” Hwanwoong laughed when they arrived. “This is where you took me on our first date, because you ran out of allowance money.”

It was a cute story Youngjo only told him a year into their relationship, but Hwanwoong still teased him about it to this day. The first time he invited Hwanwoong to hang out outside of their shared club activities, he was nervous Hwanwoong would see it as friend thing and not a date, so he racked his brain for two weeks about where to take him and asked all his friends for suggestions. In the end, the best they could come up with was McDonald’s.

“You must be mistaking me for someone, though he sounds like a fine gentleman,” Youngjo insisted. “We should get to know each other, so maybe you’ll stop mixing me up with this other Youngjo.”

They got their food and Youngjo lead him to the back of the restaurant, the same corner booth they sat in that day, seven years ago.

“Fine, fine, I’ll play along,” Hwanwoong rolled his eyes. “So, I’m Yeo Hwanwoong, I’m a third-year Modern Dance major, Seoul born and raised, let’s see, what else is there to say…”

Youngjo asked him questions, and it gave them the chance to catch up on everything they’d missed out on during the past week. Hwanwoong was wrapping up the dance routine he’d been working on for almost a month, the one that had been stressing him out to no ends, and Youngjo said he’d written ten whole songs that week.

“So, Youngjo-hyung,” Hwanwoong said after he ran out of small talk and chicken nuggets, with a visible shift in his voice, but still trying hard not to break character. “What are your plans after college?”

There was a beat of silence between them before Youngjo spoke.

“I was accepted to a master’s program abroad,” he started, making Hwanwoong’s stomach churn immediately. “It wasn’t initially what I wanted to do, but sometimes life has its own plan, you know? Like, when I started dating my first boyfriend in high school, I never expected to be one of those lucky ones that actually stay together for a long time, but then I was. Sometimes we get more than we ask for, and this would be a great opportunity to get more contacts in the industry and polish my skills before I start working. There’s not a lot of producers with master’s degrees, so it would make me stand out. But at the same time, there aren’t a lot of people who get to meet the love of their life and stay with them. That’s not something I’m willing to sacrifice because of work.”

Hwanwoong ate the rest of his fries in silence, thinking about Youngjo’s words with a heavy pain in his chest. It pained him that he was holding Youngjo back from being the best producer he could be, but at the same time, he couldn’t believe someone loved him enough to selflessly throw away once-in-a-lifetime opportunities just to sit at McDonald’s with him. He knew from the start he didn’t deserve Youngjo, but then Youngjo said the same about himself, and they’d always end up laughing at how whipped they were.

“You have a boyfriend?” he chuckled. “You should’ve said so from the start. It’s not nice to lead people on, hyung.”

Youngjo laughed too, still shyly looking for Hwanwoong’s response from under his lashes.

“I think we’re taught to believe it has to be one or the other, work or love, but it doesn’t have to be that way,” Hwanwoong finally said. “You can be greedy. You can ask life for more happiness than you need. You earned it, so no one can take that away from you.”

“But…” Youngjo hesitated. “I don’t like doing things halfway. If I’m with someone, I don’t want to give them half a love, just two phone calls a day and some pictures of cute cats and pretend that can make up for me not being there. _You_ deserve more than that.”

“Youngjo-ya,” Hwanwoong smiled gently, and he could see Youngjo’s eyes getting glassy just at the nickname that he only used in the most special of moments. “I want you to go. I want it for you, _and_ for myself. I love you so much, but I don’t know who I am when you’re not here, and that scares me. It scares me that I could wake up one day and realize I’ve done nothing with my life but play house.”

“Woongie…” Youngjo’s expression softened. “I’ve been doing some thinking too, and realized I was feeling the same way. I applied for that program just to prove to myself that I’m more than my love for you. But I also realized that there’s no ‘me’ without you, and that’s not a bad thing. You made me the man I am today, just like Seoho, and Geonhakie, and my parents, and my sister did. And one day… I know we keep joking about it, but you _are_ the man I’m going to marry, when we’re ready for it. So I should’ve told you about Japan. And I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I’m still mad at you for not telling me, but I’m madder at myself for reacting the way I did,” Hwanwoong admitted. “I was just so scared that… that the first time we spend some time apart, you’d realize how much better off you are without me, that it was all just a force of habit and you’d find you don’t actually miss me when I’m not there.”

“Baby,” Youngjo grabbed both his hands. “I miss you when you go to the bathroom. This whole week I was a mess because there was no one to call me greasy, and I cried every time I saw a cat because I knew no one else would get as excited as you. Believe me, I don’t know how I’d survive a day in Japan without you.”

“Well, you better find out soon, because you’re going,” Hwanwoong smiled from the bottom of his heart, squeezing his warm hands tighter. “I looked it up, and you humble fool didn’t even tell me it’s the best sound engineering program in the _world_! I’m not going to let you pass up on that.”

“Are you sure?” Youngjo asked quietly. “I know you were really looking forward to moving in together, I was looking forward to it too, so… Please tell me how you really feel. I’m fine with not going if it’s going to put our relationship at risk.”

“Of course it’s not,” Hwanwoong assured him. “After seven years, do you really think _anything_ could put us at risk? I really want you to go, baby. Of course I’ll miss you, of course I’ll be sad. But at the end of the day, I think it will only do us good. I’ll have more time to get a part-time job and save up for our apartment, and you’ll finally learn how to take care of yourself when you don’t have Yonghoon-hyung to baby you, so when you come back and I graduate, I think we’ll both be more prepared for it than we are now.”

Youngjo swallowed and took some time to think about it. He knew his boyfriend was right, but Hwanwoong could still see guilt all over his face. That’s how he’d always been, one of the many things Hwanwoong loved and hated about him at the same time – always completely selfless, even when Hwanwoong begged him to be selfish.

“Plus, I’ll be expecting my college graduate boyfriend to save money from his scholarship and fly me out to Tokyo for every break.”

“Woongie,” Youngjo started crying and went to his side of the booth to hug him tight.

Hwanwoong couldn’t cry in the middle of McDonald’s, both for the sake of his boyfriend and his dignity, but his eyes felt a little warmer now that he was finally in Youngjo’s arms. He knew he’d miss it so much when the best he could get becomes Youngjo’s pixelated picture on the screen as he battles the shitty dorm Wi-Fi, but after that, they had forever waiting for them, and then Youngjo would permanently attach himself to his back and he’ll beg him to go back to Japan.

“Can I propose to you with an onion ring right now?” Youngjo whispered without breaking the hug.

“Absolutely not,” Hwanwoong giggled into his neck. Youngjo put an onion ring on his finger anyway, but he called it a promise ring.

“What are you promising?”

“I’d promise to love you forever, but you already know that. So I’m promising to come back from Japan a lot cooler, so you can fall in love with me again, and then never leave.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Hwanwoong whispered as he kissed the tear tracks on his cheeks. “You’ll never be cool, old man.”

“Oh yeah? Just watch me.”

They walked back to Youngjo’s room, since Yonghoon was out on a date with Hyungu. Hwanwoong thought it was a joke at first, until Youngjo told him the whole story, the exact way Yonghoon bragged about it to him as soon as Youngjo was functional enough to handle other people being happily in love. Hwanwoong then caught him up on what was going on with Dongmyeong and Dongju, and Youngjo got a little pouty when he heard how much the twins got to cuddle _his_ baby while he couldn’t. Still, he was thankful to them, because even if Hwanwoong would never admit it out loud, he _needed_ cuddles to sustain himself.

When they got home, they talked about Japan in more detail. He asked Youngjo to show him and translate all the other brochures in that envelope he hated so much a week ago, and the second he saw his boyfriend’s eyes sparkle while explaining the courses he’d take, Hwanwoong knew it would be worth all the pain and longing he’d go through.

They stayed up late searching for the best restaurants in Tokyo, healthy and easy recipes Youngjo promised to learn how to cook before he left, and everything else one should know before moving to Japan. Youngjo sent in his confirmation e-mail, and there was no going back anymore. Hwanwoong’s heart felt heavy, and he could see Youngjo wasn’t as ecstatic as he could’ve been either, but they both knew it was the right thing to do.

When the early sunlight seeped into the room, they put Youngjo’s laptop down and fell asleep together, with Hwanwoong wearing Youngjo’s hoodie and his head pressed to Youngjo’s chest like a stuffed toy. He knew that, in just six months, he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep to the sound of Youngjo’s heartbeat anymore, so he cherished every breath they shared, and promised to make the next six months the best of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe there are only two more chapters left,, this fic will definitely be finished by the end of november as my college finally went online, so i hope you'll like everyone else's happy endings too <3


	6. Changes

Dongju was whiny. He had simply always been a whiny, overdramatic, attention-seeking baby, and Dongmyeong hated that about him. But in those three weeks, he would’ve given anything to hear his twin whine again.

He wanted to hear Dongju angry, talking about Geonhak like he talked about that one maths professor he hated in high school, he wanted to hear him complain about Geonhak’s poor taste and how he was out of his league anyway. Instead, what he got was silent denial. Dongju acted like nothing happened, sometimes trying too hard to sound cheerful, but his eyes lost their spark, and Dongmyeong would often catch him zoning out in the middle of their conversation. He hated that dimmed-down version of Dongju, and he’d rather he let out all his emotions even if it cost them new plates, than watch him walk around like a ghost with a fake smile.

Someone who didn’t know Dongju wouldn’t have noticed a difference, but Dongmyeong had twenty-one years of experience and shared genetic material with Dongju, so he would’ve known right away even if he hadn’t walked in on his fight with Geonhak.

The first sign was Dongju becoming shamelessly affectionate. Everyone knew Dongju loved being kissed and cuddled somewhere deep down, but it was rare to see him initiating it without a hint of teasing. Of course, he used Hwanwoong being heartbroken as an excuse to cling to the elder at all times, but after Hwanwoong made up with Youngjo, his cover was blown and he still kept sneaking into his bed. Then there was Dongju’s sudden interest in his grades, which was a textbook example of overcompensating. When Geonhak was around, Dongju wouldn’t be caught dead choosing a study session over a make-out session, but suddenly he was hunched over his textbooks every waking hour.

Dongmyeong knew it had gone too far when he found his brother _exercising_ in their living room. Dongmyeong had a phase in high school when he got self-conscious and started going to the gym in a semi-failed attempt to bulk up – Dongju, on the other hand, had never been concerned with those things. He loved food too much to ever go on a diet, and working out was even farther off the table; it simply didn’t exist in his vocabulary. But there he was, sweating from head to toe as he tried to follow a Youtube video on his phone.

That day, he’d brought Giwook home with him after class, because they both settled on not mentioning his date and pretending everything was normal. It was awkward for the first few days, but Dongmyeong couldn’t stand being awkward around his best friend for too long.

Giwook did ask how his date went, and Dongmyeong told him they simply didn’t click and decided not to go out again. Part of it was true, the part where they wouldn’t be going out again, but it would be false to say Dongmyeong didn’t have fun on the date.

Junyoung was an amazing guy. Smart, funny, just the right amount of flirty, he got the bill and followed Dongmyeong home and checked all those other boxes Dongmyeong’s perfect date would have to check. In a parallel universe where Dongmyeong wasn’t blindingly in love with Giwook, he could’ve imagined himself dating Junyoung. They would’ve at the very least went out on a couple more dates, and if those went well, Dongmyeong could’ve fallen in love with him.

But he didn’t. The entire evening, all he could think of was how Giwook would love the puppies at the dog cafe Junyoung took him to. His brain tried to shrink Junyoung, dye his hair electric blue, morph him into Giwook, but there wasn’t a single similarity between them. And while Junyoung was funny, he couldn’t make his stomach hurt from laughing like Giwook did. He was passionate about what he did, but he didn’t trail off into hour-long technical explanations of his sound editing software only to cut himself off mid-sentence and apologize because he had no concept of time when he let his passion consume him.

Dongmyeong realized during that date that there was no one else waiting for him in the world but Giwook. It was more than love. The thought of forcing himself to feel something for someone when all those feelings were already so naturally present in him, it just felt like an insult to love. The date only confirmed his deepest fear, that he would have to talk to Giwook if he ever wanted to experience true love.

And just as he planned to do that, after weeks and weeks of strategizing the best time and best way to approach it, he found his brother at home when he was supposed to be in class, struggling to copy some fitness trainer’s form for a one-legged glute bridge and then gracelessly falling on his butt. Giwook could wait, he had to deal with _that_ first.

“You skipped class to work out?” he asked instead of a hello.

Dongju groaned in frustration at being interrupted and turned off the video on his phone. He rolled up the yoga mat that he stole from Dongmyeong and took a big gulp of water to avoid facing his brother. Dongmyeong waited patiently for him to stop acting like an angsty teenager and say something, and Giwook just stood behind him utterly confused.

“You know Geonhak didn’t leave because there’s anything wrong with the way you look, right?” Dongmyeong said gently.

“Then why did he, huh?” Dongju snapped. “Please, go on, enlighten me, Dongmyeong.”

“Can we sit down and talk?”

“Should I leave you guys alone, or…”

“No, no, stay here, you might be able to help me talk some sense into him,” Dongmyeong held Giwook’s wrist to keep him in place.

“I’m not talking about this,” Dongju scoffed and took his water bottle and yoga mat with him.

“You’ll have to talk about it eventually,” Dongmyeong shouted before Dongju could leave, and it made his twin stop in his tracks and turn around.

“No, eventually, I won’t even remember the name of that guy I fucked for a few months in sophomore year,” Dongju said through his teeth. “I’ll find someone else to fuck and that’s it.”

Dongmyeong couldn’t say what he wanted to say in front of Giwook, so he just looked at him, and Dongju immediately got the message. Finding someone else never helps.

Truthfully, Dongmyeong was a hypocrite. He liked to think he was better at dealing with his emotions than Dongju, but his fixation on solving his twin’s problems was just a distraction from his own. He was much more similar to Dongju than he liked to admit, and he thought it was about time they sat down and opened up to each other. Dongju probably caught onto that, so he mumbled something about making coffee while he takes a shower.

Dongmyeong did as he was told, taking Giwook with him to the kitchen.

“So, this is how it’s been,” Giwook noted.

“Yeah…” Dongmyeong sighed as he got out three coffee mugs from the cabinet. “He’s unbearable. I feel like I’m raising a fifteen-year-old.”

“Well, Geonhak isn’t doing much better. He literally spends four hours a day at the gym, I don’t think it’s healthy anymore.”

“Yeah, but Geonhak-hyung works out all the time,” Dongmyeong argued. “This guy doesn’t even carry grocery bags because he says it makes his arms hurt.”

“Okay, yeah, Geonhak told me he took him to the gym once and all he did was swing from the pull-up bar like a monkey and sit on him while he did push-ups.”

Dongmyeong laughed at how oblivious they both were. He knew all along why Geonhak stopped seeing Dongju, but he didn’t think it was his place to tell. As much as he wanted to help his little brother whenever he could, he had to remind himself that Dongju was an adult now, not a kid that needed to be protected from bullies at the playground. It was time he started fighting his own battles, so Dongmyeong had to let him figure it out for himself. It was just frustrating how, even after three weeks, he was nowhere near the right track.

Dongju made sure to use up all their hot water before he got out of the bathroom. He crossed his legs on the couch and dried his hair in a towel in an attempt to look bored, because real vulnerability never came easy to Dongju, but Dongmyeong was the only person who knew how to work around that. He and Giwook set the coffee on the table and sat next to each other (unnecessarily close, as always), while Dongju stuck to the opposite corner of the couch.

“I heard caffeine isn’t good for your muscles,” Dongmyeong teased.

“Shut up, you sound like He-who-shall-not-be-named,” Dongju frowned as he drank his ice coffee. Dongmyeong thought he’d drop the long nickname after three weeks, but Dongju was stubbornly set on not speaking or allowing anyone else to speak Geonhak’s name in his presence.

“Why were you working out?”

“He said I had a flat ass once.”

Dongmyeong couldn’t help but laugh out loud, and Giwook at least tried to stifle his giggles, but they both quickly got back in line when they sensed Dongju plotting a double homicide.

“Okay, that’s kind of true, sorry I took all the ass in the family,” Dongmyeong narrowly dodged a slap on the head. “But I told you, he doesn’t mind your flat ass or your terrible personality or your weird biting habit.”

“I just don’t understand,” Dongju’s voice shrank and finally got a tone of sincerity. “Everything was perfect, and then he just snapped out of nowhere. I don’t care if he never wants to see me again, I’ll get over that. I just want to know _why_. How do I get closure if I’m always wondering what I did wrong?”

“Did you ever stop to think that, maybe, you didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Oh yeah, the classic _it’s not you, it’s him_ ,” Dongju rolled his eyes. “Even if, let’s say, he found someone else, there must be something that person has that I don’t, right?”

“God, to think I ever considered you smart…” Dongmyeong rubbed his temples.

“He didn’t find anyone else,” Giwook interjected. “He’s been doing… really bad, honestly. He barely talks to me and Hyungu, he’s always at the gym, he won’t even pick up when Youngjo-hyung calls him.”

Dongju tried not to show any emotion, but Dongmyeong knew he was worried. His ears would always perk up when someone mentioned Geonhak, even though he’d scold them later, because he was desperate just to know how he was doing.

“Dongju-ya, don’t you think it’s time to admit _why_ this is bothering you so much?”

“Because I love him.”

Dongmyeong was so proud of his brother for finally opening up his heart again, after everything he’d been through. He could see glimpses of the Dongju he once knew but hadn’t seen in years, a pure boy that had enough love in his heart for everyone he met, always seeing the best in people and approaching them with nothing but genuine curiosity. He almost wanted to cry, but he knew it would ruin the moment and only make Dongju push him away again, so he held himself together and waited for Dongju to continue on his own.

“Why do I love him?” Dongju’s shyness quickly gave way to anger. “Obviously he doesn’t feel the same, so why the fuck am I doing this to myself again? I’m a fucking idiot –”

“He does!”

To everyone’s surprise, it was Giwook who cut him off, and the twins couldn’t do anything but stare at the heated expression they’d never before seen on his face.

“Uh, sorry, I just couldn’t keep listening to this,” Giwook quickly sat back down. “Geonhak-hyung loves you. That’s why he stopped seeing you.”

Dongmyeong didn’t want to be the one to say it, but he let Giwook finish, because with the way it was going, the two of them wouldn’t have sorted it out before Geonhak’s graduation. Maybe they needed that one final push to completely stop Dongju’s insecurity from spiraling, and he was glad he had Giwook to help him.

“That makes no sense…” Dongju insisted with a tremble in his voice.

“He couldn’t stand being around you all the time and not being allowed to love you, so he thought it’d be easier to just cut you off and wait for it to go away,” Giwook continued. “Geonhak-hyung has a really soft heart. It was hurting him to sleep with you when he wanted a real relationship, but he kept doing it because he thought it was the only way to have you. If he knew you loved him too, he would’ve never left.”

It took Dongju time to process that, like he was putting together two pieces of a puzzle to see if they fit before adding them to the bigger picture, and Dongmyeong and Giwook gave him his space. Giwook looked at Dongmyeong like he was sorry that he ruined the big reveal, but Dongmyeong just smiled and rubbed his hand to assure him it was okay.

“I fucking hate him,” Dongju growled. “What the fuck? What the actual _fuck_?”

Giwook looked at Dongmyeong for an interpretation, but Dongmyeong just chuckled. Dongju masked many emotions as anger, even his displays of affection looked more like violence than affection, but Dongmyeong knew the emotion he was trying to mask now was happiness. He got up from the couch and started pacing around the room, impatient but also strategizing his next move.

“I’m going to go over there and give him a piece of my mind,” he announced.

“Go, kick his ass,” Dongmyeong laugh.

“I’m going to go kick his ass,” Dongju repeated, almost like he was practicing a foreign language. “I’m going to go kick his ass!”

Dongmyeong clapped and Dongju ran to the hallway. He stopped by the mirror to fix his hair, and then went off without a goodbye.

Giwook stayed suspiciously quiet for a while after that, but he often did that – zone out in the middle of the conversation, get lost in his own thoughts, and snap out of it a few minutes later like nothing happened. Usually Dongmyeong was the one to snap him out of it, since he was the only one watching him closely enough to notice when he wasn’t fully present.

“Man, I’m so glad _that’s_ over,” Dongmyeong sighed and fell back on the cushions on the couch.

“Yeah, it was about time,” Giwook laughed a bit too robotically.

“Come on, don’t be jealous that both your roommates got boyfriends,” Dongmyeong teased him. “You’ll always be their baby. _Especially_ Hyungu’s. I’m pretty sure he’d still kill Yonghoon-hyung if you asked nicely.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Giwook giggled for real this time. “Well, at least Hyungu-hyung has common decency, but I’m not sure if I can handle more of Geonhak’s and Dongju’s _sounds_. I think we were all secretly enjoying these weeks without those.”

“Yeah, my brain needed this break,” Dongmyeong rolled his eyes in agreement. “But if they kept being cowards a little longer, I’d have to force them to fuck in my room again. No, wait, that sounded wrong. I wouldn’t force them. I’d just politely suggest.”

Giwook seemed to flinch at one of those words, but no matter how much Dongmyeong liked to claim he could read Giwook’s thoughts, at times he couldn’t. Now was one of those times. The expression he was wearing wasn’t in his mental catalog of Giwook Expressions, and it was making him nervous, because it didn’t look positive in the slightest.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” Giwook asked after chewing on his lip for a while. “I’m a coward too.”

 _Oh._ So that’s what he was thinking about.

“Nah, I’m not as mentally unstable as Ju,” Dongmyeong giggled. Before they could talk about their feelings, his first priority was wiping that worried expression from Giwook’s face and making him comfortable.

Honestly, Dongmyeong wasn’t dumb. He knew his feelings weren’t one-sided. He just never expected Giwook to bring it up, but he was relieved he wouldn’t have to be the one to do it. The atmosphere in the room became heavy, and he could see Giwook had words on his lips that were too hard for him to say. He waited, and he took Giwook’s hand to let him know that whatever happened next, they’d be okay. It seemed to give him strength, so he squeezed his hand back and finally looked at him.

“I’m sorry, Myeongie,” Giwook’s voice got even smaller than before. “You know I… I love you. And I want to give you something like, like what Youngjo-hyung and Hwanwoong-hyung have. But I’m just too scared. We’ve been friends forever.”

“Hey, hey, why are you pouting?” Dongmyeong smiled as rubbed his cheeks gently. “It’s okay. We don’t have to be like anyone else. We can just be ourselves.”

“What… what exactly… are we, even?”

“Who knows,” Dongmyeong shrugged, still shining brighter than the sun. “We’re Giwook and Dongmyeong. And that’s all I want. Though, I would like to kiss you sometimes. If that’s okay.”

“So we can just…”

“We can just be friends who kiss?” Dongmyeong suggested. “But not like Dongju and Geonhak-hyung and that fuck buddy thing they had going on. I mean, we can, um, you know, but… You get what I’m saying!”

“Take it slow,” Giwook supplied, finally sounding a little calmer. “We can take it slow. No labels.”

“Exactly,” Dongmyeong sighed in relief. “We don’t have to officially date until we’re sure it won’t affect our friendship. We’ll figure something out, eventually. Gah, what I’m saying is, I just really want to kiss you, okay?”

“So why don’t you?” Giwook smirked. “Are you a coward too?”

“What? No! Of course not,” Dongmyeong blushed. “I could kiss you whenever I want. In fact, I’m going to kiss you right now!”

“Do it, then.”

“I’m gonna do it,” Dongmyeong threatened, but he made no attempt to get closer. “I’m gonna do it, this is your last chance to back out.”

“I’m not backing out.”

Dongmyeong looked at him with a hilarious expression stuck somewhere between focused, frustrated and nervous, and his head started slightly moving back and forth, like he was trying to get closer to Giwook but something pulled him back every time.

“Well, I am,” Dongmyeong swallowed and sprung up from the couch. “Goodbye Giwook.”

Giwook held his wrist with a dumb, lovesick smile plastered to his face. “Get back here, dumbass.”

Dongmyeong sat back on the couch, and Giwook planted a soft but confident kiss on his cheek. He let his lips linger there for a second longer than they usually would, before pulling away just to look at Dongmyeong’s dumbfounded expression with all the love his eyes could possibly hold.

“At our own pace, okay?”

Dongmyeong had been in love for years and years, but in that moment, he drowned in it. If there was ever a way out, that door was locked now, and Giwook threw the key to the bottom of the ocean. He realized that, yes, they could go at their own pace, because there was so much time ahead of them.

A whole eternity.

There was one thing, though, that couldn’t wait for a second longer. With one hand still curled up into a fist on his lap, he put the other one on Giwook’s cheek, and there was no going back. It was perfect, the way Giwook’s jaw rested on his palm as his fingertips brushed his cheekbone, and Giwook looked scared, but he helped him close the gap anyway – and they were kissing.

It was more than Dongmyeong could’ve ever dreamed of. Despite the initial clumsiness, it made butterflies swarm in Dongmyeong’s stomach. Giwook kissed just the way he always imagined he would – slowly, gently, but with great determination, like he was pointedly thinking about what he could do to make it feel better for Dongmyeong. Dongmyeong wished he would relax a little more, but he found his lack of experience adorable, and besides, they had an eternity to practice.

Kissing Giwook for the first time felt like coming home. He knew it was Giwook’s first kiss, so he guided him with his hands and lips, but let him set the tempo. It was short and sweet, and when they broke away, Giwook was somehow even more beautiful than ever, with his red-hot cheeks and his eyes still lingering on Dongmyeong’s lips.

“That was…wow.”

“Wait ‘til we get to the tongue part,” Dongmyeong giggled, enjoying the way the red of Giwook’s cheeks somehow deepened even more.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“But you never said it back…”

Dongmyeong wanted to smack himself for being too nervous and happy and in love to actually reply to Giwook’s confession, and making him sad in the process. He’d just have to make it up to him by annoying him with his love until he begs for mercy.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” Dongmyeong smiled. “I’ve loved you since the first year of high school, and I plan on loving you forever. So you better do the same, okay?”

“Of course, captain.”

* * *

Dongju was marching down the hallways of their dorm building, _furious_.

Despite his frequent violent outbursts, Dongju didn’t get angry easily. He was irritable, but it was closer to grumpiness than true anger, anger was too strong of a word for someone who didn’t want to spend too much energy on other people in the first place. But right now, he was angrier than he’d ever been, practically bursting at the seams with things he wanted to say to Geonhak, but he realized most of them weren’t insults at all.

He just wanted him to know how he felt.

He had always been afraid of his feelings for Geonhak, ever since they started creeping up on him one night when Geonhak fell asleep in his bed and he realized he could spend hours just watching him sleep. He hid from them in Hwanwoong’s bed that night, and then at rehearsals, in the library, at parties, anywhere that provided distractions. And every road ended up leading him right back to Geonhak.

Dongju learned that loneliness was survival. The emptiness in his chest, the cold side of his bed, the meaningless hook-ups, those were all signs that he was safe.

Ever since his first heartbreak in high school, it was just him and acting. He learned that that quote about a career not being able to keep you warm at night was false – every night, he’d close his eyes and imagine himself on stage, performing in front of thousands of people, and it was all the love he ever needed. He wasn’t lying when he said he was happy on his own as long as he had his friends, his passion, and an occasional hook-up to get the hormones out of his system. But he’d be lying if he said he was _happier_ with that than with Geonhak.

Many things scared Dongju, heartbreak not being one of them anymore. He learned that the trust he had in other people was actually just a reflection of how much he trusted _himself_ to deal with anything they could do to him, and Dongju loved and respected himself now. He knew that he was no longer a child, naïve and fully vulnerable, and he’d learned many important lessons on how to protect himself. But in the meantime, he fell in love with his coping mechanisms.

He loved his independence. As narcissistic as it sounded, couldn’t imagine better company than himself. Hanging out with himself didn’t require any talking, any struggle to get the other person to like him or to express himself properly without offending anyone, it didn’t even require pants. Plus, he had enough time to both stay on top of his schoolwork and nurture his hobbies, which meant he was rarely ever stressed. He found all that much more valuable than a man, so the thing he was most afraid of losing was _himself_.

But with Geonhak, he knew he had nothing to fear. Geonhak was independent too, he was quiet and didn’t get offended if Dongju didn’t entertain him 24/7, he was easy to be around and he understood Dongju’s love language – just lots, and lots, and _lots_ of touching. His life pre-Geonhak was good, but his life with him was a little lighter, there wasn’t a deep, dark loneliness gnawing at his chest anymore, and though a lot of things about the loss of that loneliness worried him, they didn’t _terrify_ him anymore.

He knew he was making the right choice.

“Kim fucking Geonhak!” Dongju kicked the door open, almost making Geonhak jump out of his skin.

Geonhak was sitting at his kitchen table, hunched over a pile of papers that were probably his homework, and thankfully, Hyungu didn’t seem to be in the room. Dongju could see the dark circles under his eyes even from a distance, but he’d scold him about that later.

“What the –”

“What the fuck, yeah, that’s my line,” Dongju growled as he grabbed Geonhak by the collar and got up in his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with _you_?!”

“I will bite your fingers off one by one,” Dongju took a deep breath to stop himself from exploding, loosening his grip on Geonhak’s collar a little bit so he wouldn’t actually kill him, but still holding him in place. “You ignore me for weeks, get me wondering what’s wrong with me, get me doing a dumb amount of squats because you made me think my ass is flat, and you _know_ I hate working out. And why? Because you’re _in love_ with me?!”

“Giwook, that little –”

“Shut up while I’m talking,” Dongju threatened again. “You’re lucky Giwook can’t keep his mouth shut, because if he could, I would’ve ordered your execution a long time ago.”

Dongju could see Geonhak was a little lost, a little embarrassed that his feelings were out in the open, but he was trying to keep a light-hearted smile to protect himself. He wasn’t looking Dongju in the eyes, fixated on what to say next, but Dongju knew he would just crack an awkward joke like he always did.

“So what, you’ve come to kill me because I’m in love with you?”

“I came to kill you because you’re a fucking coward,” Dongju yelled, even though he didn’t know why he was yelling anymore. “Because you’re so dense, so insecure, so emotionally constipated that I have to spell everything out for you like I’m the older one here. So here – I. Love. You. I’m so fucking in love with you that I want to bake dumb heart-shaped cookies for you and adopt many animals with you. There.”

Dongju was shocked at how easily those words came out of his mouth. Vulnerability always equated danger to him, but with Geonhak, it felt right. He knew he’d just put his heart in Geonhak’s hands, but it didn’t scare him, because he knew Geonhak would protect it with his life. That’s why he fell in love with him in the first place, after all.

It took some time for the shock on Geonhak’s face to melt into fondness, but when it did, he put his arms around Dongju’s waist and brought him closer, and Dongju knew he was home.

“You’re really hot when you’re angry,” Geonhak smiled.

“Good,” Dongju lowered his voice and frowned one last time, before jumping onto Geonhak and kissing him roughly all the way to the bed.

Once they were both properly spent and cleaned up, Dongju asked him to make kimchi jjigae again. He sat on the countertop in nothing but Geonhak’s massive hoodie, and this time, Geonhak didn’t have to run away. They could both let their feelings consume them, without pretending.

“Your cooking has improved,” Dongju commented while sniffing the air. Dinner wasn’t over yet, but it did smell even more delicious than last time. Maybe those rose-colored glasses influenced scents too.

“That might be because you’re not trying to stick your tongue in my throat while I’m doing it,” Geonhak laughed, and Dongju punished him by hopping off the countertop and attacking the back of his neck with kisses.

“What did we say about fucking in the kitchen?”

“Unsanitary,” Dongju repeated like a child that wanted to brag about a big word he just learned. “But we didn’t say anything about being sickeningly romantic in the kitchen.”

“I guess that’s a little more sanitary,” Geonhak tried to suppress his smile, but the blush that crept all the way down to his neck was giving him away.

Dongju took it as his cue to continue kissing him, his shoulders, his shirtless back, stand on his tippy toes to kiss his hair, kiss wherever his lips could reach. Geonhak continued stirring the ingredients in his kimchi-jjigae and pretending it didn’t affect him, but Dongju _knew_ he was smiling from ear to ear. A few months ago, he would’ve called what they were doing “gross”, but right now, it made him the happiest man in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm SO SO SORRY it took me so long to update, life was being a little weird TT i hope it was at least an okay chapter! ily stay safe <3


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